Stained Legacy
by Padfoot Lives
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is not the threat on the horizon. How can the survivors of war believe a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and a legacy somebody left behind.
1. The Sphere and the Murderer

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future.The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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Stained Legacy   
  
Chapter One: The Sphere and the Murderer *   
  
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It was a very cold night. The rain splattered drops of pure ice onto the young Auror as he hurried through the London streets towards the Ministry of Magic. He was hooded so that few people would recognize him. He knew he would be welcomed happily into the Ministry, but today, he wanted to be an unknown shadow standing in the background of the magical court proceedings.

He entered the Ministry, drawing his cloak and coat tighter around him, knocking stray droplets off his shoulders. He barely even felt the cold. With a heavy sigh, he glanced around, keen green eyes taking in the crowds of witches, wizards and magiocal reporters wandering about in anticiptation for the proceedings to begin. The young Auror knew why there was such muted excitement everywhere. Four years before,right before the final battle with Voldemort, there had been the dreadful murder of Aberforth Dumbledore, the brother of the renowned Albus Dumbledore, and of course - there had been a magical outcry. Today, Dumbledore had finally announced that they had found an eyewitness to the scene of the crime: a witch named Scarlett Fetcherly.

The Auror thought the name was oddly familiar, but couldn't quite place it. Maybe she had fought with Dumbledore's Army during the battle. So many had fought, so many had died, so many people's lives had been destroyed irreparably ... he couldn't even keep track of it all.

And so they were all here today, to finally see if Scarlett Fetcherly could bring justice for Aberforth Dumbledore and all the people who had loved him. To top it all off, the Ministry had discreetly hinted that Miss Fetcherly had also discovered information in that incident which involved the rising of a Dark Lord far greater than Voldemort had ever been. This, of course, was terrible news ... and everyone wanted the murderer of Aberforth caught and hanged before he or she had the chance to bring about the dreaded Rising.

Everyone was living in the hope that it wasn't already too late.

A sudden elbow in his ribs alerted the young man to the fact that he was no longer alone amongst the crowd. Glancing sideways unobtrusively, he caught the end of a clumsy stumble over the edge of frayed robes, and felt his lips twitch. "Careful," he warned gently. "All our trouble to stay anonymous tonight will go to waste if you expose trip and expose that distinctive hair."

"Point taken." A snigger answered his comment, and the other Auror, of about the same age, lifted his hood enough to give his companion a grin. The first young man winked, and the two fell silent for a while, looking about as if they were bored and awaiting the beginning of the proceedings.

The first young Auror exhaled as he looked around at the eager, buzzing faces and voices. Most of these people didn't have a clue about the horrors and devastation war and evil could wreak upon their worlds ... most of them had been untouched by tragedy during their time. Some were even relatives of the old Death Eaters, either innocent of those sins, or repentant now that they had fallen. The young Auror had known far more than his share of tragedy, and he knew that if he unmasked himself here, he would be buried with interrogations that he couldn't bear.

The last thing he wanted to do was rake up memories of his past. It hurt, to remember the people he had lost to death, to tragedy ... even to the horrors of their own memories. Some of the people he loved more than life itself had disappeared into the mist, in an attempt to forget their own pain and bitterness, and he wished more than ever that he could see them all again.

"Would either of you like a lemon drop?" A low, husky voice asked quietly at the young Auror's shoulder. "I hear they're Dumbledore's favorite"

Both young Aurors turned around, grins breaking across their faces as they heard a voice they had almost forgotten. Hidden beneath a discreet hood and cloak was a faintly lined face they knew all too well, capped by graying brown hair, with warm brown eyes smiling at them.

"It's good to see you again." A hand came out of the cloak to shake each of the others'. "I missed you both."

"Likewise."

"Is - ?" He left the sentence unfinished.

The two young men exchanged regretful glances that conveyed both longing and sadness. "I don't think so." The green-eyed Auror responded quietly. "I don't think she'd come back just for this."

"For all we know, she may not even know - who knows if she gets the _Daily Prophet_ these days?" The other added, with a sad shrug.

At that moment, Dumbledore, looking just as benign and ageless as ever, appeared at the doorway of the grand courtroom and announced that the proceedings were about to begin. There was a natural bustle and ripple of excitement, but the press and reporters were left behind, of course. The three hooded men got through with a flash of their offical badges, given to them by Dumbledore himself, and they found themselves in the circular, intimidating courtroom. The full Wizenmagot sat in their places, grave and kind expression flitting about the room as the others took their seats around the center pit where the suspects and witnesses were brought forward.

There were about forty other people in the room, other than the magical court members, when the grand doors closed, magically shutting off all outside sound and chaos. The first young Auror cracked his knuckles tensely, awaiting the coming of all their fates.

Scarlett Fetcherly was summoned from the doors beyond.

She was a tall woman of about thirty, with incredibly shrewd eyes and a keen gaze that struck the three men in the balcony as very perceptive indeed. With just the right mixture of timidness and courage on her expression, she walked proudly forward, impressing everyone with her determination and hauteur, and took the seat Dumbledore indicated for her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Fetcherly," The head wizard of Wizenmagot said austerely, "Thank you for agreeing to come forward today."

"I would have come forward sooner, sir, had I been in England to hear of the news of which I dismissed as a child's prank three and a half years ago." Scarlett responded with dignity. "Unfortunately, I left the country that very day for a sabattical, and I ignored the _Daily Prophet_ for far too long. For that, I am immensely sorry."

The green-eyed Auror heard a familiar snort from beside him. "What a load of crock."

"Let us begin the questioning. Professor Dumbledore, you may proceed."

"Thank you, Mr. Biggs." Dumbledore said graciously, rising from his chair with fluidity. "Miss Fletcherly, I understand four and a half years is a very long time for someone to remember details, but can you tell us where you were, and when, when the events in questions took place?"

"I was returning from Diagon Alley by the Knight Bus," Miss Fletcherly responded promptly and smoothly, "On the evening of Friday, May 14th 1998. It was around, I'd assume, a quarter to nine or thereabouts."

"And what were you doing?"

"I had just gotten off the Knight Bus, and I was walking down the street towards my home. As I passed an alley, I caught sight of movement in the shadows. I think the asthmatic grunts of somebody was what initially caught by attention."

"Can you tell us what happened then?"

"I heard snatches of conversation. I distinctly heard a hoarse voice say, 'You and your brother's other fools ... you will lose this battle. I have fooled you all for so long ... so long! How can you defeat V-Voldemort when you cannot even see through me?'. I stopped at once, startled. Then I heard the asthmatic voice choke out, 'Give me the Sphere. Give me the Sphere.'."

"Did you find out what this Sphere was, Miss Fletcherly?" Dumbledore asked gently, his eyes flashing a second of pain at the description of his brother's death.

Scarlett nodded. "I think - I think I heard the hoarse voice laugh and say rather manically, 'Give you the Sphere of Pagnon! You must be mad! It will give me power! When the alignment comes about, it will give me the power to access powers far greater that V-Voldemort's are!'. Then he kept laughing, and I saw a flash of purple light. I fled then, uneasy and unwilling to be seen in such a position."

"How could you mistake that for a child's prank?"

"I couldn't see how anyone could access powers greater than You-Know-Who's!" Scarlett responded in anguish, wringing her hands exaggeratedly. "I thought it was bravado talking, and that it was probably all a joke to frighten some asthmatic old wizard. I didn't see anything else to it."

There was tension in the courtroom. Everyone had heard Scarlett's story of the Sphere of Pagnon. If this weapon existed, and would enable one to access such fearsome powers at a certain time that the killer had obviously known all about, they would be no hope for any of them!

"Now, Miss Fletcherly, I'll ask you a simple question," Dumbledore said, his voice radiating reassurance and power in an impressive way. "Were you acquainted with my brother, Aberforth Dumbledore, before the night in question?"

Miss Fletcherly shook her head. "No, Professor Dumbledore, I was not."

"Could that also be a reason for why you assumed what you saw was an illusion, a 'child's prank'? Because you did not recognize the victim?"

"That's very likely, sir, but I think another reason was this: the killer, Professor Dumbledore, was rather _well known for having a penchant for mischief and pranks_." Scarlett Fletcherly's voice was positively smug and almost malicious in its vindictive pinpoint of a murderer.

Dumbledore paused for a long, straining moment, and then he asked quietly: "Who was the man you saw with Aberforth Dumbledore, Miss Fletcherly?"

A ghost of a smile lit up Scarlett's icy black eyes. "His name was Sirius Black."

The young Auror stiffened horribly. Beside him, he heard the older man draw in breath sharply. There was considerably unrest in the courtroom at these words. The head wizard stirred angrily, and shook his head with a semblance of calm fury.

"Impossible!" He snapped. "Preposterous, Miss Fletcherly! Sirius Black was not a murderer, no matter what the wizarding world may have thought just months prior to his death. You cannot be serious about what you are suggesting!"

"I was acquainted with Sirius Orion Black in Hogwarts," Scarlett replied calmly, "And I had no trouble recognizing him at all. That was why I thought it such a prank. It was typical of Black, but it turned out that it was not a prank after all!"

Dumbledore's blue eyes were grave with worry. "I fear we must not let this leak out to the press - at any costs. Sirius Black died a hero on September 21st 1998, after loyal service to me in the battle against Voldemort. He was murderered by the Dark Lord himself! I see no reason for believing he was a murderer!" He sighed heavily. "Miss Fletcherly, are you sure?"

"Quite positive, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Scarlett said meekly.

"Thank you, Miss Fletcherly, you are free to leave now." The head wizard murmured weakly, clearly as staggered as the rest of the court.

She left gracefully, her head high, her cold black eyes burning with something like proud satisfaction. When the doors had closed behind her, there was a ripple of surprise and disbelief and horror amongst the assembled magical folk, and the young Auror felt his fists clench in incredulity and anger on the armrests of his chair. Dumbledore sank into his own chair, and looked up at the witches and wizards expectantly.

"Dumbledore, what do we do?" Mr. Biggs demanded in agitation. "Sirius Black - a murderer? We must prove Scarlett Fletcherly's statement true or false! However, I fail to see how she could be wrong, so we must take Black as a guilty personality. We must also find the Sphere of Pagnon, because with Black now dead, he must have hidden that treacherous weapon!"

"I understand the situation perfectly, and know what must be done, Mr. Biggs," Dumbledore said with admirable calm. "Indeed, it seems improbably for Scarlett to have been wrong, and of course the Sphere of Pagnon must be found. But on no account must this revelation be allowed to reach the reporters. Guilty he might be, but I will not have a dead man's legacy stained this way."

"Of course, of course," Mr. Biggs said hastily, "But how do we go about finding this wretched Sphere? And what is it?"

"Leave it to me to discover any information about the Sphere." Dumbledore said. "As for the location of it, it is naturally a matter to be taken up by the Wizenmagot."

Mr. Biggs was clearly at a loss. "Well - well - we must find the people who were once very close to Sirius Black! He may have taken somebody into his confidence, if not as an accomplice in his betrayal then merely as a holder of his secret in regard to the fact that he had the Sphere. Miss Fischer," he addressed a witch in green robes who was flipping through a magical sieve file already, "Who would you determine closest to Black?"

"Professor Albus Dumbledore is a possibility," the witch responded, reading from some obscure list, "But I fear not, seeing as he stands before us, clearly as baffled as we are by his revelation. Even closer I would say were Remus Lupin and Harry Potter. Certainly, they can be located and would be willing to give any information they may have!"

"Excellent," Mr. Biggs said, exhaling heavily, "And find the young, powerful witch who saved so many lives during the battle - Hermione Granger. I believe she and Black were on intimate terms at one time."

Dumbledore stood up, and his intelligent blue eyes glanced meaningfully, and briefly, in the direction of the three, hooded, shell-shocked men in the balcony before he said, "If you don't mind, Mr. Biggs, I suggest you leave the duty of finding these three witnesses and bringing their information before you - to me."

Silently, he bowed and swept out of the room. Slowly, the court proceedings were adjourned, and the witches and wizards filtered out of the room quietly, whispered murmurs of shock and disgust and indignant anger floating about.

The three in the balcony did not move.

Finally, the older of the three men slammed his fist against the armrest of his chair and said sharply, "I won't believe it! Sirius was not a murderer! After everything, after all the times he saved our lives and the magical world, after the way he gave his life up, after all we went through to bring him back from the Veil in your sixth years - how can they expect us to believe that he was going to betray us all with a Sphere of Pagnon?"

"How can we deny Scarlett's testimony, though?" The red-haired young Auror whispered sadly.

It with with despair, doubt and disbelief that Harry Potter, Remus Lupin and Ronald Weasley stared at each other for a long time, before they remembered the trauma that lay in store for the third witness mentioned in the case ... and it was with stricken silence that they slowly left the Ministry of Magic, finally separating briefly and melting away into the unsuspecting London crowds.

  
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A/N: A new kind of story, I think! Please, please review because I'd appreciate any feedback about what you guys think of this idea! Should I go on? Let me know ... --> 


	2. Facing the Past

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Two: Facing the Past   
  
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Far away, set deep into the hills of Ireland was an attractive little cottage. It was fairly isolated, so that few people saw the magical sparks that occasionally erupted from it, but the house was close enough to the village for the little boy who lived there, and who was currently playing with other local children, to go home when it was sundown.

As the sun began to set, Sean turned around and said, "Okay, I gotta go home now."

"Aww, Sean, can't you stay a little while?"

"My mommy needs me."

"Your _mommy_ - ?"

The scornful remark was cut off abruptly by the angry glare in Sean's warm black eyes. With a warning look that anyone who said anything less than nice about his mother would be missing vital bits of anatomy, he headed down the hillside towards his house. As he neared, he heard the sound of humming from the kitchen, and he smiled. It was rare to hear Mommy humming, especially humming a song as upbeat and _happy_ as this particular Weird Sisters one.

Sean was only three years old, but he had a perceptive intelligence that was impressive. He knew how sad his Mommy really was sometimes; he'd even seen her crying quietly in her sleep on those nights when he'd had nightmares and gone to her room to sleep. She always hugged him and told him playfully that her nightmares were a hell of a lot worse and not to worry - he would always wake up. Although the little boy certainly thought his young, beautiful mother could be a stubborn know-it-all, the undeniable fact that he adored her more than anyone else remained. He often wanted to know about his father, but his mommy had never mentioned anyone, and Sean had never asked.

Now, he wandered into the kitchen. "Hi, Mommy!" He chirped brightly.

"Oh, my!" Hermione Granger whirled about from the counter and, smiling, pretended to look around the room in exaggerated confusion. "Did I just hear a voice? Am I imagining things or did I just hear the squeaky little voice of my three-year-old Sean?"

The three-year-old Sean in question gurgled with laughter and launched himself at his mother's midriff, nearly knocking her over. She picked him up, swung him around and kissed him lovingly on the top of his silky head. "Hello, sweetie. Did you have a nice day today?"

"Ah, it was okay," Sean shrugged with an air of being too mature for the childish games he loved. He clambered onto a chair beside the counter so that he look at what his mother was making. "What's that squashy black thing?" He demanded, wrinkling his nose up in mild disgust. "It tooks like cr - "

"Yes, well," Hermione said hastily, disapproval warring with amusement, before he could come up with language unsuitable to his age, "It's called bouillabaise, you little punk, and it's a delicious dessert. I thought you could choose dinner tonight - maybe pizza." Her eyes sparkled with humor at Sean's enthusiasm. "Besides, I'm not surprised you think this 'squashy black thing' is _yuk_; Ron used to say so as well ..."

Her voice trailed off, and Sean looked up at her. He'd heard all about the famous Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Grandpa Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and all the others who had fought with Mommy in the war against Evil. He'd seen those funny moving pictures also of happy, laughing people who would wave at him energetically and he would wave back. He'd always wanted to ask Mommy why none of them ever came to visit ... but he never did. Mommy had told him he had met his uncles Harry, Ron, Albus and Remus when he was a baby, though.

Maybe they didn't like him, he considered seriously.

While Sean innocently pondered the mystery of his mother's best friends, Hermione studied her son as he scrambled around the room aimlessly. She loved him so much, more than she'd ever thought possible - as much as she loved her friends (in a different way, of course), and even as much as she loved a certain man ...

He would be a handsome guy when he grew up, she knew, watching him affectionately. He was strong, reckless and wiry for a three-year-old, with 'cute' features, a grin that was quite a killer even so young and floppy black hair that was silky and soft. Other than his occasional recklessness, he was surprisingly intelligent and fairly skilled with sudden spurts of magic already. Hermione knew she would do anything for him, and she would die protecting him if that was how it had to be.

Because she'd read a prophecy Dumbledore had, with that sympathetic smile of his, shown her long ago - a prophecy that had made her weep bitterly. It had told her that her son, the child of a powerful Muggle-born and a brave pureblood (both of whom would be fighters against Evil), held the final hope against a future battle with an even greater evil.

Sean was the key.

  


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Night had fallen when Hermione heard a distant _Crack!_ outside her house. She froze, her heart nearly stopping, and hurried into the living room, where Sean was fast asleep on the couch, curled up like a little cat. She ran a hand over his hair reassuringly, fear clutching at her heart, and she went to the cabinet. Inside lay her wand, and she gripped it hard as she edged towards the door.

Someone knocked softly. Knocked three times.

Hermione stopped, and stared at the door. Who would knock three times like that? She went to the door, and looked through the peephole. If it was a stray Death Eater or a minion of new evil, they wouldn't bother to knock, she figured. They'd blast their way through and utter "_Avada Kedavra_" without a second thought. So Hermione, with some relief, lowered her wand a little. Through the little circle, she saw a hooded figure, tall and thin and strong. It was a frame she found vaguely familiar, but it was disguised by the cloak and coat.

Puzzled, and ready to duel if she needed to, she opened the door and looked out onto the doorstep.

There was silence.

A silence that was laced with emotion.

"Hi, Hermione." A voice finally greeted her.

She clutched the doorframe to steady herself, incredulous. Relief, amazement, delight, concern all washed through her in a complete jumble of chaos, but she registered delight the most. As her mysterious visitor lowered his hood, her heart leapt.

"How - how did you find me?"

"Give us some credit, 'Mione," That familiar laugh came out from the visitor's throat. "We care more than you'd guess, which is why we've always kept an eye on you from a distance. We gave you the distance you needed, but we _always_ knew where you were."

She found herself smiling. Of course they cared ... how could she have ever believed otherwise?

"Come on in, Harry."

He did, and she closed the door behind him, watching him as he took off the hooded cloak. He hadn't changed a bit, she realized happily, except for maturing a little and gaining a couple of faint scars, courtesy of Auror-ing, she guessed shrewdly. His frame was still wiry and thin, the glasses were still cracked in the center, magically held together, the green eyes still twinkled with their old humor, seriousness and affection and the black hair was still as untidy and unruly as ever.

"It's really you, Harry!" She burst into tears and flung her arms around his neck. With a laugh, Harry hugged her back, the sadness in his heart easing at finally seeing Hermione again. He'd missed her, and he told her so. As she finally pulled away, he caught sight of the little boy on the couch.

Hermione watched as Harry grinned. "Merlin's beard - is that Sean?"

"Of course it is," she smiled.

"Wow, I'd never have recognized him! Babies change so much!" Harry sobered a little. "He has your stubbornness and intelligence in his features, but he looks so much like his dad."

Hermione swallowed, feeling hot tears pricking her eyelids and wanting them to go away, wanting the pain to go away. "He is." She said, her voice shaking slightly with emotion. "He may be the key, but he's a typical little boy in other ways. He's become quite a mischievous, amusing child ... full of banter, laughter and spunk. I'm proud of that."

"You should be," Harry smiled back at her. He reached out and squeezed her hand in the brotherly way he'd grown accustomed to doing. "He's grown up good, you know. You've done a great job on your own, 'Mione, Ron and Remus, Dumbledore and McGonagall - they'd all be as proud of you as I am."

She felt herself blush slightly, grateful for that. Soon, she'd brought out Butterbeer bottles she'd kept locked away for a long time, and they began to catch up with everything. Harry told her Ron and Remus had wanted to come along, but they'd suddenly been called away on a small Auror job. They talked about all that they had done over the past three years, teasing each other and laughing about old times - times before even third year at Hogwarts. Hermione was happy to see that Harry no longer needed anger management classes, and Harry was ecstatic that Hermione no longer needed anti-depressants, although the secret sadness was still there.

Finally, Hermione remembered the concern she'd felt briefly when she'd seen Harry. He hadn't shown it, but she knew him far too well ... and her own perception and sixth sense was sharper than most. There was a reason Harry had come here tonight - something was wrong, and Hermione felt a twinge of foreboding as she turned serious brown eyes to her best friend and asked, "Let's hear it, Harry."

"You never did mince words, 'Mione. But I sure as hell should have known you wouldn't be fooled," He chuckled softly. After a pause, during which Hermione felt him squeeze her hand again. "Uh - well - you haven't been getting the _Daily Prophet_, have you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, why?"

"Well, Dumbledore found an eyewitness to the murder of Aberforth."

There was a gasp. Hermione hoped Dumbledore could finally have some peace now, after the death of his brother. Eagerly, she asked, "And what could the witness tell the Wizenmagot?"

Harry sighed, and recounted the events of the court proceedings, stopping before he reached the climactic bit. Hermione sensed his hesitation, and all the worry came flooding back. Why was Harry suddenly so edgy and upset? What had this Scarlett Fetcherly (where had she heard the name before, by the way?) said to them?

"Who was it, Harry?"

"She - she said it was Sirius."

Hermione's blood ran cold, and she stared - brown eyes meeting green - for a long moment. Then, her voice catching in disbelief, she asked softly, "Sirius Black?"

"Who else?"

"But - but that's impossible! There's no way he could have committed the crime! Harry, she must be - "

"She only told us what she saw, 'Mione, you know we can't deny the truth of an eyewitness. I don't want to believe it any more than you do - hell, he was my godfather and your - " He broke off, shaking his head. "We all know you two were close at one point, but you have to keep an open mind here about Sirius."

"No!" Hermione snapped, standing up. She knew Harry didn't mean a word of what he was saying - that he and Remus and Dumbledore would not believe this any more than she did - but she was shaken nonetheless. "I won't keep a damned open mind here, Harry. Sirius was not a murderer! How can they even think about destroying the memory of a man who died a hero?" Her voice caught again, and she was threatened by the grief she'd hidden for so long, but she suppressed it again.

"They're not going to destroy his memory," Harry said quietly, "All they want is the Sphere of Pagnon. Dumbledore, Remus, Ron and I have all been questioned about it, but none of us had any information that Sirius may have given us about this Sphere. The Ministry is now more convinced than ever - than ever - that - that - "

She stopped moving and stared at Harry. "What?" She asked softly.

"That you know where the Sphere is. That Sirius may have left it in the safekeeping of his old lover before he fought the final battle."

"_WHAT?!_" Hermione spat angrily.

Harry looked at her helplessly. "We all tried to convince them that you wouldn't know anything, that if you did, you would have been smart enough to figure out the real use of the Sphere of Pagnon and that you would have restored it at once to the Ministry, whether Sirius was alive or dead - but now one of the Ministry witches is implying that you might have been an accomplice - that - that your disappearance off the scene of the magical world was rather suspicious ..."

"I don't believe this," Hermione murmured, rubbing her head which was beginning to throb. "I do not believe this. How can they even consider Sirius as a suspect in this _crap_, and how can they believe I would keep something as powerful as this damned Sphere obviously is from them? Don't they know what a goody-two-shoes I am?"

Her companion shrugged wearily. "We tried everything."

"So what now?"

"I have to take you back to London, for an official questioning at the Ministry."

"Jesus Christ! Christ and Merlin! After everything - "

"I know," Harry said gently, standing up and gripping her by the shoulders. "But if you answer their questions honestly and prove to them that you don't know anything, and that you don't believe Sirius was guilty, they'll let you come back here and leave you alone for good. But you have to go down there and talk to them!"

Hermione sighed heavily. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"If it's okay with you, I can spend the night here and we can go in the morning." Harry offered. "You and Sean can stay at Ron and my apartment in London, and Remus can always babysit when you have to go out. He visits often these days because of all this coming up."

At that moment, Sean stirred on the couch, obviously having heard voices and he sat up sleepily rubbing his eyes. Suddenly, he stopped and blinked dazedly at Harry, his vision clearing. Hermione paced a little, trying to push the accusation against Sirius, and the pain of losing him away. Harry grinned at Sean, whose face slowly broke into a smile and he gave Harry a quizzical, happy look.

"Uncle Harry?"

Harry laughed. "That's me, Sean."

"I'm glad you came here." Sean said seriously, smiling. "Is Uncle Ron with you?"

"No, but you'll see him soon. Him and Uncle Remus and Grandpa Albus and Aunt Minerva and all your other uncles and aunts." Harry shook his head, and Hermione felt a small smile twitch her lips at his obvious marvel at the huge 'family' Sean had. "So, you think you might like to go to London tomorrow? I have a Portkey."

"Cool!"

Hermione sank onto the couch wearily, resisting the sobs that wracked her heart inside. It looked like Sean was looking forward to seeing everyone and seeing London. Which meant that she _definitely_ didn't have a choice. She was finally being forced to face the past.

  


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That night, Hermione dreamed ...

  
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She was standing in the middle of a battlefield. Lucius Malfoy had his wand pointed at Ron. Hermione began to run towards, Ron, calling out a desperated warning, when she tripped over a crumpled body on the ground and fell headalong into the shadows of the woods. As she crawled to her knees, she saw the face of the body lying before her.

It was Neville.

"No!" Hermione whispered in horror, pulling the body into the shadows so that they wouldn't be seen and shaking Neville hard. "Neville, wake up! Come on, Neville, you're not dead! Wake up and tell me you're not dead, damn it!"

"He's dead, child." A cold voice sneered.

Hermione's blood froze in her veins as she looked up and saw the silhouette of Lord Voldemort standing just outside the trees, his coal-red eyes burning into hers with fierce, icy intensity. A terrible shiver wracked her body, but she kept her chin up and defiant as she looked at him.

"Hermione Granger ..." Voldemort mused, white, thin lips curling. "How very fortunate, that I should find it so easy to kill a witch like yourself. They said you were powerful, Harry Potter's right-hand fighter, one of his many bodyguards ... he isn't here now to protect you."

The wand raised and the thin lips curved to form the deadly words.

"Hermione!" A voice yelled.

She turned in horror, in time to see Sirius hurtling through the trees. He threw himself into the path of the jet of orange light and Voldemort uttered a shriek of rage before sweeping away. A smile of triumph broke out across Sirius's face ... he had saved her ... but slowly, the laughter died away as the reality of the situation struck him. Hermione knelt, transfixed in horror, staring at Sirius's stumbling body as it shook and he began to stumble, deeper and deeper into the shadows, eyes fixed on hers till he disappeared into the darkness ...

"SIRIUS!" She screamed, something horrible breaking inside her, cracking, bleeding ... "SIRIUS, NO!!!"

Burning, salty tears splattered onto Neville's stone cold body ...

  


Hermione opened her eyes urgently, and sat up. Her body was shaking and clammy, her heart beating dangerously fast and wrenchingly, and those tears ... those bitter, broken, stricken tears ... kept streaking down her face.

_He's gone ... he's gone ... why not take me? ... He's dead ... he's gone ... take me, God, take me, please ... save me from this ... TAKE ME!_

Her pleas went unanswered and the pain tore on.

She turned her soaked pillow over, and buried herself deep beneath the blankets that offered false, futile warmth. Praying that Harry and Sean would not hear her, she wept brokenly until finally, when the first ray of dawn cracked open the navy velvet sky, she fell into a restless asleep again.

_Oh God, why not take me?_

  
**   
  
  
  
*   
  
A/N: Second chapter up! Hope you guys are enjoying the story ... please let me know if you like the way it's going and whether I should continue with this. Feedback is much appreciated! --> 


	3. Tourniquet

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize. The songs used in this chapter are "Tourniquet" and "My Immortal" respectively, and do not belong to me either; they belong to Evanescence.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
**   
  
*   
  
**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Three: Tourniquet   
  
*   
  
**   
  


London hadn't changed much in three years. Neither had Remus or Ron, for that matter. Hermione felt some of the pain ebb away as she exchanged anecdotes and laughter with her old friends, and saw the delight with which they and Sean got to know each other. They all ate lunch at Diagon Alley, just catching up, but Hermione couldn't feel as free as she might otherwise have had - not with Sirius's guilt hanging over her head, along with this questioning and the mess she'd made of her life.

She and Sean were staying at Harry and Ron's penthouse, a magically enlarged place with three guest bedrooms, one of which Remus was already staying in because his house was out in the country.

In the evening, Professor McGonagall Apparated in, expressed delight at seeing Hermione and Sean and immense disapproval at how thin Hermione had become. She commissioned Remus to the task of ensuring Hermione gained at least ten pounds ("Professor!" Hermione protested in horror) over the following week, because, she said, Harry and Ron were entirely untrustworthy in such situations. Then she packed them off to the Ministry, getting ready for an old-fashioned game of Exploding Snap with Sean, whom she was babysitting.

"Your interrogation's at seven," Remus said gently, looking at his watch. "We'll be in time."

Hermione sighed. "Interrogation - what a way to put it," she commented. "I feel like I'm on trial here, which I suppose I am. I can't believe this is actually happening."

"None of us want to believe Sirius was a murderer," Ron mumbled, "But if we decide he was innocent, we're left with that question: if Sirius wasn't the man with the Sphere of Pagnon, who killed Aberforth, then who did? And why would Scarlett Fetcherly make such a mistake?"

"Now isn't the time to be reasonable, Ron," Harry muttered, observing Hermione's distress.

She shook her head and glanced at Remus. "Harry said that this Scarlett says she knew Sirius at Hogwarts. Did you know her?"

"I remember the name," Remus mused thoughtfully, looking remarkably like a worn-out thirty-eight-year-old businessman. "But for the life of me I can't place her. I don't think she was a Gryffindor ... maybe a Ravenclaw, she looked very clever ... who _was_ she?" He seemed to be thinking more to himself that to the others, but Ron refrained from teasing him about it as they reached the Ministry at that moment.

Hermione felt like she was living in a nightmare. She had to separate from the three men, and walked alone to the little waiting room where all suspects and witnesses were left before a questioning session. The moments ticked by, each feeling like a horrible eternity, leaving her prey to the thoughts and memories that London was bringing back to the surface. She felt like she was standing on a precipice, buckling to her knees, each step taking her closer to the edge, each blow making her want more and more for it to all end.

The lyrics of a Muggle song she sometimes listened to played over in her mind. She thought about the way she'd tried to escape her past by moving to Ireland, the way she'd missed those she loved, the way she ached for Sirius, the way her life was crumbling all around her. The song in her head grew louder, roaring in her ears, she whispered their plea desperately to herself.

  


_ I tried to kill the pain,  
But only brought more.  
I lay dying,  
And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal;  
I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming -  
Am I too lost to be saved?  
Am I too lost? _

  


Crimson regret and betrayal ... that about summed it all up.

"Hermione Elena Granger?"

The doors opened, and Hermione stood shakily to her feet. A wave of relief flowed through her as she saw Dumbledore standing in the doorway, waiting for her. She walked towards him, and he said, "Come in and take a seat, Hermione," gently, and briefly, she felt his hand on her shoulder, reassuring her. She walked to the little chair in the center of the room, glancing up briefly, desperately searching for Harry, Ron and Remus. Then she sank into the chair, and found herself facing the grand Wizenmagot. Terror struck her briefly, and she felt like a fly being put on an examining table and being dissected.

The head wizard, Mr. Biggs, looked down at the young woman who had walked in, and studied her carefully. So this was the old lover of Sirius Black, he thought wonderingly. He saw a beautiful young woman, who had attractive, sweet features - if slightly tired and pale - and a wonderful body, if on the thin side. Her hair was silky and layered around her shoulders, and her eyes were wide and brown, staring up at him with apprehension and a hint of defiance. She was wearing blue robes over Muggle clothing, and her hands were knotted together in her lap, restless in their movements.

How much did she know, he wondered.

"Miss Granger," he began, taking pity on her and speaking kindly, "I am Mr. Biggs, head wizard of the Wizenmagot. You do understand why you're here, don't you?"

Hermione was surprised. The head wizard reminded her forcefully of the grandfather figure she'd always seen in the Muggle picture books she'd read as a child, and still read to Sean. With a slightly rueful tone in her voice, she said, "Actually, sir, I'm afraid I don't know exactly why I'm here."

There was a murmur of surprise amongst the panel, and Hermione felt Dumbledore's merry blue eyes twinkling in her direction.

"I was told," she continued, summoning every last drop of confidence, "That you summoned me here to ask me questions about anything Sirius Black might have told me about the Sphere of Pagnon. I'm afraid I can't help you - I don't even know what the Sphere of Pagnon exactly is."

  


_ My God, my tourniquet  
Return to me salvation  
My God, my tourniquet  
Return to me salvation _

  


Damn the reality those lyrics invoked inside her ...

"Miss Granger - " Biggs began angrily.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm telling you the truth, Mr. Biggs."

She could see that he was beginning to lose patience, and his voice was infinitely less kind when he spoke again. Warningly, he said, "Miss Granger, I can call witnesses who can easily tell me exactly how close you and Black were, and there are other witnesses who will tell me without doubt that if there was anyone in the world he would have confided his guilty secret to, it would be you. If you refuse to cooperate, I will have to charge you as an accomplice to plans to overthrow the current magical government and access great power."

Hermione stiffened. "I take it, sir, that you don't believe me?"

"No, Miss Granger, I'm afraid I don't."

  


_ Do you remember me,  
Lost for so long?  
Will you be on the other side?  
Or will you forget me?  
I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming -  
Am I too lost to be saved?  
Am I too lost? _

  


"Mr. Biggs," Dumbledore cut in at this point, his voice as serene as ever, only Hermione caught the undertone of steel. "Miss Granger has been an impeccable citizen of the magical community, right from her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She has never been arrested or given a warning by the government and she played a large role in the recovery of the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort. Her knowledge of magic and its laws is wholly impressive and devoted, without her, Mr. Harry Potter would never have won the Triwizard Tournament and thus discovered the resurrection of Lord Voldemort, and certainly, without her, we would not have destroyed him and his army three and a half years ago. Are you seriously suggesting that a young woman of Miss Granger's past and calibre is an accomplice in a plan or evil?"

"Deception, Dumbledore, is not unheard of," Mr. Biggs said sharply. "Take the example of Sirius Black - "

"Sirius did not kill Aberforth!" Hermione burst out angrily. "How can you say that? He would never - he wasn't - after everything he did for the magical community and for us, how can you - _he was not a scheming murderer and he didn't have the Sphere of Pagnon!_"

For a long moment, there was intense silence. Then, Mr. Biggs said, "Your devotion is touching, Miss Granger. However, your sincerity has to be questioned. Give me the information about the Sphere of Pagnon that Black fed you. If you know its location, I want that too. Cooperate with us now, Miss Granger, or you will be charged. Or worse."

"Or worse?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, rather curious now.

Mr. Biggs sighed, and looked truly remorseful as he said sharply. "I believe you have a son, Miss Granger, and that his father is unknown. Magical Law states that a mother who does not cooperate with the law is not deemed a fitting maternal figure. I have grounds, Miss Granger, to have your son taken away from you. If you are unlucky, he may not even end up with his godfather, Harry Potter, or with his next of kin, your parents."

Hermione gasped, feeling as if the world was shattering around her. "You - you can't - "

"I can, Miss Granger, and I will if you force my hand. One word to the correct department about your uncooperativeness with the law and you will be deemed an unsuitable mother. Your son - " He consulted a file that he waved up magically, " - Sean Taurus Granger, I believe, his name is - will be delivered to magical foster care."

_Not Sean ... I can't lose Sean ... oh God, what do you want of me? It's either Sean or Sirius here ... they're making me choose ... _

Hermione stared defiantly at Mr. Biggs, no longer afraid. Her life was in shards, falling to pieces, but she no longer cared. It had been destroyed years ago anyway. Biggs didn't believe her anyway; all he wanted was for her to tell him something that would certainly prove Sirius's guilt and sell him out. If they took Sean away, she knew Harry and Dumbledore would fight tooth and nail to deliver him to Harry's care, so at least she might see him again. So if they took her son away - 

Then she had nothing left to lose.

She would rather be sentenced to Azkaban than betray the man she loved ... even if he was dead ...

  


_ My God, my tourniquet  
Return to me salvation  
My God, my tourniquet  
Return to me salvation _

  


Closing her eyes for a second to quell the tide of pain, she looked back up at the Wizenmagot and said coldly, "I have nothing to say. I maintain that I know nothing about the Sphere of Pagnon. I will not feed you false information about an innocent man."

"Very well, Miss Granger," Mr. Biggs sighed in frustration and disappointment. "You are hereby charged - "

Hermione caught sight of a fast movement in the balcony, and guessed Ron had stood up in anger and Harry and Remus had pulled him back to his seat.

"Mr. Biggs," Dumbledore interrupted the head wizard in that steely voice, "I'm afraid you cannot charge Miss Granger. You have no proof whatsoever that she is involved in this crime, and you therefore cannot charge her. Innocent until proved guilty."

"He's quite right, Arnold," the witch sitting next to Mr. Biggs spoke up mildly. "Innocent until proven guilty."

Hermione breathed again.

"Very well," Biggs said grudgingly, "Miss Granger, you are free to go. But please, do keep in mind what I said about your son, because I meant every word. And, if we receive any information, any evidence, anything at all linking you to this crime - we _will_ find you."

"I'll be waiting on the edge of my seat." Hermione said dryly, before standing up and stalking out of the court. The doors closed behind her, and she stood alone in the waiting room for a few minutes, her mind grasping the events that had just taken place, and quietly, she walked away to where the others were waiting for her.

  


***

  


She was alone in the penthouse. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were working feverishly at tracking down the Sphere of Pagnon, which was seemingly unheard of. Remus, Harry and Ron had a day off from Auror-ing, and they'd asked her to join them at the magical carnival in Diagon Alley. She'd declined, and sent Sean along with them.

Now she sat, on her own, in the twilight. The entire place was eerily silent, and she was alone with her thoughts and her demons. Terrible swells of grief swirled and spun inside her, growing, diminishing, bursting, but never fading. She could not understand why she was still here, still walking around like any other human ... when inside, she felt anything but.

Slowly, she stood up and went to the Muggle stereo Harry had obviously set up in the corner of the living room. She found a CD, of a Muggle band, and turned on the stereo to the song she wanted. As the beginning tune began to play sadly, she tasted salt on her tongue and dashed the tears away bitterly.

  


_ I'm so tired of being here,  
Suppressed by all my childish fears,  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave; 'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone  
_

  


She'd never been able to get past Sirius's death. No one could ever understand how deeply she hurt, how much she had loved him. No one else, none of the other men she'd tried to date over the three years, had been able to get even a tenth as close to her as Sirius had managed to. And now he was gone, and somehow, he'd left behind a stained legacy for her. How could he be a murderer? How could he have planned to access such dangerous powers. How could he have wanted to be greater than Voldemort?

How could she believe it?

Yet there had been an eyewitness ...

How could she not?

She wandered across the room to the table where Ron's authentic dagger lay. It had been a present that Hermione had given him long ago, after a trip to China, and she picked it up now and slipped the shining, deadly sharp metal with its carved hilt out of the sheath. Slowly, she traced it along her palm, watching, numbed, as a thin red streak appeared ... like magic.

  


_ These wounds don't seem to heal,  
This pain is just too real,  
There's just too much that time cannot erase ...  
  
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears,  
I held your hand through all of these years;  
But you still have  
All of me _

  


She'd gotten far too accustomed to pain. So accustomed to it that she didn't even feel it now as warm blood trickled out of that growing slice across her palm. The salt was growing more intense in taste on her lips and tongue, and she stared at the gleaming steel of the dagger as she twirled it slowly, enticingly, towards her skin. It shone in the dusk sunlight, shining in a way her life never could.

_Oh, Sirius, did you do it? Why did you do it? I won't believe you did it!_

What have you done to me?

She was going mad. At last, she'd finally slipped over the edge. She told herself that she hated Sirius for doing this to her, yet at the same time she loved him. She told him that she was going to fight for Sean and to do that, she was going to make up some rubbish for the Ministry, rubbish that she'd say he told her ... and at the same time, she knew that her loyalty to Sirius would never let her do anything of the kind.

"Damn you, Sirius Black!" She cursed over and over again, banging the dagger against the wall in her rage. A vase shattered on the table, an effect of her magical persona's anger. "Damn you for all you've done to me? Damn you for making me love you! Are you happy now? Are you watching me from wherever the hell you are and laughing at me? _Hell!_ I hope you're in hell, damn you!"

Only she knew she didn't.

And that song on the stereo kept playing ...

  


_ You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light;  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind.  
Your face, it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams,  
Your voice, it chased away  
All the sanity in me -   
  
These wounds don't seem to heal,  
This pain is just too real,  
There's just too much that time cannot erase ... _

  


She stumbled blindly through the room, the dagger shaking uncontrollably in her hand. As if from a distance, she felt like she was watching herself, and knew that she was going crazy. He had driven her crazy. He had left her, and with him, she'd lost everything that had ever meant anything to her. Her life was falling apart ... and she was powerless to stop it.

She didn't even want to stop it anymore. She just wanted the pain to stop.

"Look what you've done to me." She whispered brokenly. "No one asked you to be so damned noble and save my life, damn you, Sirius. It should have been me! I should have died that night, damn it! Me! Not you! How could you leave me behind, bearing this guilt, bearing this pain? You were everything! Without you - how could you expect me to go on?"

The tears were falling faster, harder, bitterer. Her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the rug, the cold steel of the dagger pressing into her skin, reminding her that she was still alive, that the pain was still real and that it wasn't going to stop.

He'd left behind only pain for her. And God help her, she didn't even blame him for it! All she blamed him for was giving himself up for her. She wanted him back so badly it hurt her physically. And the knowledge that he was gone ... that it was her fault ... her fingers tightened around the knife. He'd locked her into the life he'd left behind, chaining her to his love, to his memory, to his presence, to his guilt ... his guilt ...

Was he guilty?

_Oh God, save me!_

  


_ When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears,  
I held your hand through all of these years;  
But you still have  
All of me  
  
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone -   
But though you're still with me,  
I've been alone all along ... _

  


Eventually, the tears stopped tearing apart her body, and as she felt her sobs subside into silent grief again, she crawled up from the carpet, calm but shaking again. She looked down at the dagger again, watched as drops of blood leaked from her aching hand onto the ground, and wondered if it would be unbearably cruel to use the dagger she'd given wrong as the weapon of her final destruction.

Because she couldn't bear it any longer ...

"All right," she challenged him angrily, looking around wildly. "You saved my life once! Save me again! Save me from this pain, take me to you now! Why can't you do that? Harry and Remus and Ron will take care of Sean! They don't need me here, so why don't you save me and take me now, Sirius? Oh, Christ, why won't you help me now? I need to be saved ..."

She sank down to her knees again, and turned the knife so that its tip was pressing against her flat stomach. On the couch, she caught sight of her wand, the wooden stick staring back at her, almost like it was pleading with her not to give up. But it hurt too much, and she wanted to see Sirius again. Guilty or not, she needed to see him ... wanted him ... she loved him so much!

Hermione wondered whether it would hurt less if she used her wand and a self-casting _Avada Kedavra_ curse, and then found herself laughing softly and bitterly. Hurt! Pain! It was laughable, and unreal as it seemed, she was laughing at herself. What did it matter what she used to end all this, because how could it possibly hurt any more than it already did?

Her grip on the blade tightened with determination, and a moment's pang of ecstasy shot through her.

Finally ...

  


_ My wounds cry for the grave,  
My soul cries for deliverance;  
Will I be denied?  
Christ!  
Tourniquet,  
My suicide ... _

  


It would be over any minute. Hermione inhaled sharply.

At last, it would end ...

  
**   
  
  
  
*   
  
A/N: Haha, a cliffhanger! Let's see how this ends ... please, please review! The scenes with Hermione may be a little startling, but I'm just portraying the feelings someone would face in her situation. Let me know, all right, and thanks for all the reviews so far!  
  
Just to clear up any confusion that might have occurred, the last verse of song is not from "My Immortal", as with the rest of the scene, but from "Tourniquet" again.   
  
** --> 


	4. A Guardian Angel

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
**   
  
*   
  
**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Four: A Guardian Angel   
  
*   
  
**   
  


He'd been prowling the shadows of the penthouse balcony for over an hour, furiously debating with himself about whether or not to go inside and see them. Above him, the moon glowed a sliver crescent of shining silver, and the stars twinkled with beautiful ecstasy, a stark contrast to his mood. He continued to pace restlessly, lithe and smooth in his movements. And with the movements, he continued to think, to reason, to argue with himself. What in hell was he supposed to do?

He knew Harry, Remus and Ron had left a little while ago, with a small boy. That meant Hermione was alone ... and that threw a complicating spoke into the wheels of his decision-making. What did he want to do? Hell, he knew what he wanted to do, but was that what was best? Yet he knew he had to do _something_ - but what options did he have?

The _Daily Prophet_ had announced the finding of an eyewitness to the murder of Aberforth Dumbledore. The article had roused his interest at once, for obvious reasons, and he'd kept a close eye on the paper. When the name of the eyewitness - Scarlett Fetcherly - had been revealed, he'd received this bit of news with some suspicion and distaste. Perhaps he had made his own mistakes, and perhaps he was overreacting about a very isolated incident directed solely at him, but he had very good reason not to like the beautiful, clever Scarlett ...

_Make a decision, damn it! You can't stand here forever._

But this thoughts still wandered painfully.

He'd waited desperately for the paper after the setting of the courtroom proceeding had appeared. Then the reporters had sourly reported that Scarlett Fetcherly had indeed been able to pinpoint the killer, but that the Ministry declined to make the identity of this killer public.

Interesting ...

Why were they hiding the identity of this murderer? Obviously, they must think him either very special, or they must think him too powerful to touch or outrage with an accusation (the latter reason being extremely unlikely). His curiosity had been piqued. But then, three days later, came the stunning blow. He'd read the paper in a state of utter shock ... somehow, the newspaper had gotten hold of three words that were closely linked to the murderer and the crime:

_Sphere of Pagnon._

And at once, he had returned to London, lurking deep in the shadows. Unknown to anyone, he had read about the miraculous Sphere in his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - by pure accident - and when he'd registered its immense power and all his instincts warned him of evil's sources discovering such a weapon as well, he'd spent the past years trying to hunt down the wretched Sphere, to keep it out of worse hands. It had been a secret mission he'd set himself to. He'd sacrified more than he could bear thinking about just to protect the magical and Muggle world, and he hated himself for it. Now he regretted more than ever for never having shared his secret with anyone - for how could he possibly reveal what he knew now?

That was why he was pacing out here. He knew Remus, Hermione, Harry, Ron and all the rest would be somehow involved in this - after all, they had known Aberforth Dumbledore well, hadn't they? If anyone would make good use of his information, it was them. Yet he still didn't know whether what he was considering was right ...

At that moment, his sharp senses caught a tune floating out of the living room. Slowly, he crept to the glass between the living room and the balcony, looking into the lit room with a heart beating faster in his warm chest. His ears picked up the lyrics of the song - it was a certainly unfamiliar song, but the words ... those words ...

He stared, horrified, watching Hermione as she moved listlessly and then wildly about the room, clutching a shining dagger in her hands. He saw her slice the blade down her palm and watched the blood trickle out with frozen shock. As the song went on, and she began to speak, aloud, seeming to no one, his eyes fixed upon her, almost hypnotized. Somehow, even though he couldn't hear her words through the glass and over the song's rhythm, he understood her, and he felt like someone was ripping something apart inside of him.

Such pain ...

And then his entire body stiffened. She fell to the floor, the dagger turning inwards, towards the flat concave of her stomach. A small drop of red appeared through the white cotton of her tee shirt, and that was all it took for him to realize it was more than he could stand.

He demorphed and picked up his wand. As the splotches of blood became a patch and she crumpled, lying still as if unconscious, the dagger falling to the ground beside her, he kicked the glass furiously so that it shattered. He ran into the room, muttering, "_Reparo._", so that the glass retrieved and fixed itself, and dropped to his knees beside her still frame.

"Don't be dead," he prayed with all he had inside him. "Merlin's beard, don't die now."

She was still alive; he felt it in the warmth of her body and blood. Gently, he lifted her up into his arms and laid her on the couch. Then he conjured bandages out of thin air and lifting her tee shirt up a little, began to tenderly wrap the wound as best he could in his limited experience, so that the bleeding stopped. It wasn't too bad, he realized, thank God she would be all right.

But he was angry as hell.

He wrapped a bandage around the cut on the palm as well, and then looked around the room. "_Scourgify_," he waved his wand and all the blood stains and drops vanished, and the room neatened itself. He wandered over to the unusual machine in the corner, from which the music seemed to be playing, and it took him a second to figure out how to turn the damned thing off. Stereos, or whatever they were called, were not his area of expertise.

Going back to the couch, he looked down at the lost, gently breathing face turned somewhat towards him, and his expression softened. At least she was okay ... thank Merlin he'd come here tonight.

He searched the papers on the desk, and found a brightly moving flyer with 'Carnival at Diagon Alley' on it. If that was where the boys had gone, and he reckoned it was, they wouldn't be back for a long time yet. That meant, that if he was going to leave again, he still had time.

Realizing Hermione wasn't going to wake yet, he sighed and wandered towards the bathroom. Although he'd eaten all right over the past years, it had been a long time since he'd had the time or the will to clean himself up - but now he did. He looked into the mirror, observing the long, tangled dark hair and the bloodshot eyes and disgraceful beard.

Raising his wand, he magically cut his hair till it was short and would only fall a little into his eyes on occasion, which was an appearance that made him look younger. Not that it mattered ... he closed his eyes, trying not to remember. Old habits certainly died hard. He opened his eyes again and found an opened shaving kit in the cabinet. He tore open the plastic - thanking Merlin that he'd learned how to properly shave in his lifetime as a wizard - and shaved the beard off so that his hard jaw and face were clean-shaven again. The lack of hair brought a couple of the small scars he'd gained into view, but he shrugged it off, and cleaned the razor, splashing some of Remus's cologne on.

When he returned to the living room, he found Hermione stirring. Slowly, he sat down on the edge of the couch and brushed away a falling tendril of her silky hair. Her eyes flickered open, and she looked drowsily at him with a dazed expression in her eyes. He thought he saw a spark of recognition deep in her brown eyes, but the bewildered haze that she was stuck in was clearing overwhelming that.

"Am I dead?" She asked softly, her voice sweet and sleepy.

He swore, his fist clenching. "No, you're not dead." He growled, frowning heavily. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"Who are - where - how did you - I ..." Her puzzled, dazed voice trailed off as she slipped into her subconscious again. He watched her eyes close, his fury fading into relief that she looked more peaceful and that she was still alive. He could not understand why she would want to kill herself? He couldn't believe she felt so much pain ... still. Yet how could he have expected anything else? He knew what had happened ...

He watched her in her unconsciousness for a long time, finally allowing himself to remember his past, the past that he'd left behind years ago. Bitter, sorrowed tears pricked at his eyelids but he never let them slide. He just sat there, occasionally brushing her hair back from her face, seeing her and yet not really seeing her because he was so lost in his memories.

The sound of knocking on the door startled him. Apparently they didn't like the carnival. He bolted to his feet.

"Hermione?" He heard a voice - Remus's - call, and his heart thudded. "Hermione? We forgot our key! 'Mione?"

There was, naturally, no response. He glanced around, uncertain, frozen to the spot, and finally he pointed his wand at the door and muttered, "_Collorputus_." - The door locked, and he was certain the people on the other side of the door heard the click because he heard Ron's voice say, "Did she just lock the door?"

He hurried across to the desk and the papers, and picked up a pencil. Wretched thing; apparently they didn't use quills in this apartment - would probably attract too much attention from Muggle visitors. With a resigned exhalation, he tossed down the pencil again and fumbled in his pockets. Thankfully, the wrinkled parchment, torn out of an ancient, rare book, was there and he folded it and laid it on the desk before turning back to Hermione.

With a last look at her, he made sure he'd left no traces of the excess blood anywhere, that the dagger was safely on the desk, and he morphed and raced out through the balcony door, which he opened by turning the knob with a front foot. Within seconds, like before, he was gone from the scene and finally swallowed whole by the night.

  


***

  


Harry banged on the door harder. "Where the hell is she and why would she lock the door?" He demanded, growing more worried by the second. "_Alohomora._" He muttered, low, so that the neighbours on the lower floors wouldn't hear. "_Alohomora!_"

Nothing happened. The door had been locked.

"You think - something could be wrong?" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

Sean clutched his Uncle Remus's hand. "Mommy - ?"

"Maybe - "

"What if - ?"

"Could - ?"

"Let's all calm down," Remus interrupted in his eternally placid voice, although his eyes were full of concern himself. "There could be a perfectly logical explanation for this. Maybe Hermione just had a shower, and is finding some clothes for herself and locked the door so that we wouldn't barge in on her."

Ron screwed up his face disbelievingly.

"I don't like it." Harry said decisively, trying the Opening Charm again. "Damn it!"

By now, Sean's worry got the better of him and he flung himself at the door. "Mommy! Open the door, Mommy, please!" He called desperately, trying to break free of Harry's arms pulling him away from the door. "Mommy! Open the door, Momma! MOMMY!"

The door burst open and fell to the ground with a thud.

Sean froze, and gasped. "Huh?"

Remus, Harry and Ron all stared at the door in incredulous silence, then at Sean, and then at each other. Someone murmured "_Reparo_" after they all stepped in, so that the door returned to its original stability, but they were still stunned. They didn't speak it out loud (although Ron nearly did, but Harry stepped on his foot in time), but they were all thinking exactly the same thing:

Now they understood why he was the key. Sean was a very powerful young wizard.

Their thoughts were diverted by Sean's choked, "Mommy?"

At once, they saw Hermione, lying on the couch, still but breathing, traces of blood soaking through her white tee shirt and a white bandage on her hand. Remus moved first, hurrying to her side with a muffled oath and exclamation, and he saw at once that she was injured.

"What happened to Mommy?" Sean wailed desperately trying to get to his mother. Remus and Harry glanced at each other, and then quickly at Ron, who was surprisingly quick on the uptake and at once scooped Sean up into his arms and with the little boy protesting and kicking, hurried out of the room.

Harry checked Hermione's pulse. "She's all right," he said with a heavy sigh of intense relief, before collapsing onto the couch by her feet. "Merlin's beard, Remus, what do you think happened to her?"

"I don't know, Harry," Remus looked around in worry and confusion. "There don't seem to be any signs of a struggle, and I don't think any minion of evil or Death Eater would waste time with daggers ... I really can't explain this. But I have some potions in my room, Madam Pomfrey's own concoctions, and they'll heal these cuts in no time. Good thing she got them bandaged."

They heard a loud kerfuffle in the bathroom, followed by squeaks and reproaches, oaths and swear words that a child should not hear. It was evidently where Ron had obviously dragged Sean off too (having not had time to think of a better option), and Harry and Remus both could not suppress grins in spite of themselves.

Remus went to get the potions and in five minutes' time, Hermione's injuries were gone. Apart from being a little sore when she woke, Remus said, she would be just fine. As if she'd read his mind, Hermione stirred and her eyes opened at that moment. She blinked at them, as if dazed, and then some confusion crossed her features before her gaze finally focused.

"Harry? Remus?"

Harry grinned. "It's us, 'Mione. Do you know what happened to you?"

"Well, I - " It came back to her, and she frowned in perplexity. The last few moments of her consciousness were hazy; she'd been certain ... oh well. She swallowed hard and said, hoping they could not see her furious shame, "Oh, it was just a silly accident. I thought I'd use Ron's dagger to open a letter, and it slipped - "

"You're a witch, 'Mione," Harry said gently, jerking his head towards her wand, "Why didn't you just open it with your wand?"

She licked her lips nervously, cursing inwardly at her stupidity. _He's right, you moron! This is like your searching for wood to make a fire in your first year at Hogwarts._

"It's always easy for someone who was born into a Muggle family, to forget that they have an easier way to do things," Remus supplied for her kindly, his eyes twinkling a little. She felt his concern, and was certain she had not deceived him. "Well, Hermione, it's a good thing you - "

He was not allowed to finish, as at that moment, the bathroom door opened and Sean tore out, dodging out of Ron's floundering grasp, and flung himself at his mother with a delighted, "Mommy! You're okay!" He clung to her, curling up onto her lap. Hermione laughed, although tears burned behind her eyelids.

"Of course I'm okay, sweetie," she murmured soothingly, "I just cut myself by accident, that's all. Mommy's just fine, and Mommy also thinks her big, brave boy should be in bed. You have an early day tomorrow if you're planning on going to work with Uncle Harry."

The prospect of watching at Auror at work was of course enough for any energetic little boy to subside and agree to go to bed. Hermione made sure Ron got Sean to brush his teeth before she carried him into his room. He grinned up at her from under the covers, and requested two kisses.

Hermione duly complied, and sang softly until her son fell asleep. As she watched him sleep innocently and peacefully, she felt that horrible guilt and shame course through her. What a fool she'd been! The pain was still there, and the hurt was just as strong, but how could she have even considered leaving Sean? Maybe her pain would end, but how could she have been so selfish that she'd allowed herself to forget the hurt she'd have caused her son, Harry, Ron, Remus, Dumbledore, McGonagall, her parents and all the other members of The Order of the Phoenix who knew and loved her?

_Enough of this,_ she told herself sternly,_Sirius would have been disappointed in you if you'd gone through with what you were about to do. Thank God you aren't dead now ... thank ... thank who? Why didn't I die? Someone stopped it ... but that's not the point. It's time to be strong for the people you love, and make Sirius proud of you._

Sirius ...

She kissed Sean on the forehead lightly, and stood up. She was tired, and drained, but she had to talk to her friends. Turning off Sean's bedroom light, she closed the door halfway and then walked back into the living room, where the three men were waiting for her. They'd brought out Butterbeer, and handed her one as she sat down.

"Uh - there's something you should know," Ron began awkwardly. Hermione gave him a quizzical look, wondering what this was. Quickly, Ron and Harry together told her what had happened - Sean's concern for her, his panic, and the way his emotions had made the door blast off its hinges.

She sighed, and nodded her head. "I know; his power and adaptation to magic have shown themselves, briefly, before. I'm afraid. Afraid for him, once people realize how strong he is and how dangerous he is to the rising of evil. But I suppose I'm proud of him too."

"Well, you have to admit, his skill is not entirely unexpected," Remus said with a smile, "Look who his mother is."

They all laughed at that, and then Harry, grinning, said, "Yeah, 'Mione, we saw those injuries. It must have taken a hell of a lot of stength to conjure those bandages and wrap them around yourself before you passed out. It was pretty incredible."

Hermione shook her head. "That's just it. I didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"I didn't conjure those bandages and wrap them around me."

They looked considerably startled. "What do you mean?" Remus asked her, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"When the dagger slipped and sliced into my wrist, it fell to the floor, and I stumbled. Before I could stop it, it had cut my stomach as well," she was lying, and felt guilty about it, but this wasn't the important issue - and how could she let them know what she had almost done? "And I drifted in and out and then passed out almost immediately. Really."

Harry blinked. "Are you saying - ?"

"Someone else was in here," Hermione interrupted him, needing them to understand her, even though she barely understood it herself. "Someone else - who found me when I was unconscious, and took me to the couch and conjured up those bandages. Someone who locked the door, so that you wouldn't get in and he or she could get out. I opened my eyes briefly, and I saw a hazy silhouette - blurry, barely distinguishable, but I heard a distant male voice - which sounded angry."

Remus and Harry stared at her in utter astonishment. For a long moment, they seemed to be speechless, but then Remus cleared his throat a little, clearly taken aback. "Hermione!" He studied her thoughtfully, in some concern. "You couldn't possibly be suggesting someone else was actually in here with you, and that person was who saved your life?"

Hermione sighed. "I know it sounds crazy, Remus, butI'm not delusional! I didn't hallucinate, believe me, I didn't! I really saw and heard someone, felt someone - but - but - " she hesitated, and then added, softly, "He looked - a little - a little like - like - Sirius."

They all missed him, but she felt their pity as well. Harry frowned heavily and then sighed. "'Mione, he's gone! In fact, your thinking this mysterious person resembled Sirius only confirms the probability that you dreamt of some guardian angel with a hazy, blurred face and voice ... I know how it feels, how you feel - remember, I went through the same things after the Veil - "

"This was _real_, Harry!" She insisted, her voice shaking with intense conviction. "How else can you explain the fact that I passed out and somehow my blood flow was stopped? _That_ kind of magic doesn't exist!"

"Well, maybe - maybe you were semi-conscious, in a kind of dreamscape," Harry offered lamely, looking puzzled, "Maybe that's why you don't remember actually conjuring the bandages, wrapping them, and locking the door?"

"A little far-fetched perhaps." Hermione said quietly.

"No more than your theory," Harry countered, with a sigh. "Look, I'm sorry, 'Mione, but this just couldn't have been possible."

"This does seem very unlikely, 'Mione," Remus added gently, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure there are many explanations for what happened, most of them probably psychological, but I really don't think someone else was really - "

"Then how do you explain the lack of blood?" Hermione demanded, her intelligent eyes sweeping the room. "I remember drops falling to the ground when I cut my palm. How can you explain the fact that there's no blood on the floor or couch at all? Don't tell me I forgot about doing that spell as well! And what about the door? _Why_ would I lock the door, if I was really the one to do this?"

"Why would anyone else lock the door?"

"So that he wouldn't be seen. Maybe he doesn't want to be identified." Hermione said at once.

Harry and Remus exchanged skeptical, yet doubtful, looks. However, this time, Ron, who had been extremely silent during this entire topic of conversation, leaped to his feet with a muttered exclamation. Everyone turned to stare at him, but shaking his head, he just said, "Wait here", and hurried back into the bathroom he'd emerged from in Sean's wake not long ago.

He reappeared seconds later, and in his hand he was carrying a wet razor.

"This was newly opened," He explained, holding it out and dropping the plastic wrapping of its case onto the table beside the couch so that they all stared at it. "This is our spare razor, the one we keep in the event of unprepared, unexpected male visitors, and it's been used."

There was dead, amazed silence.

"I certainly hope you're not suggesting I shaved my hairless jawline while I was at it." Hermione said rather archly, a frisson of excitement building up inside her. She knew she'd been right - that someone else had been there ... that someone else had saved her life ...

"Well, that certainly throws a whole new light on the matter," Remus said thoughtfully, taking the razor from Ron. "It looks like Hermione was right after all, and that she did indeed have an unknown guardian angel come to her rescue - a figurative guardian angel, of course. The only questions remaining now are who he is, and why he didn't want to be identified."

Hermione felt rather helpless again. "I really couldn't see him well, other than - "

"The resemblance to Sirius," Ron said quietly. "So we're looking for a noble, nice guy who bears some kind of physical resemblance to Sirius Black."

"His brother, Regulus?" Harry asked doubtfully.

Remus snorted. "That would indeed be a joke! Regulus Black was neither noble nor nice, nor would be save a Muggle-born's life in a million years - no offense meant, of course, Hermione. Besides, he died years ago - nearly seventeen years before his brother, in fact."

"What about any of his living cousins?"

"Well, I do remember Andromeda, Narcissa and Bellatrix's half-brother Apollo looked very much like Sirius, but he's dead. Most of the family are. As for the rest of them, there are none of whom look like Sirius, but we could still ask Tonks and Andromeda, of course."

Remus's eyes reflected the longing he felt at the subject of his best friend, and Hermione felt a strong pang as she realized how much they all still missed him. It hurt just to think about it, still, and she wondered ... she wondered if they blamed her for what happened to him. Did they blame her, even in the slightest? Surely some corner of Harry and Remus's hearts blamed her for the loss of their godfather and best friend, respectively?

_Don't be a fool ... they'd never blame you for that ... even thought they should ... _

She choked back a dry sob of anguish.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a family member," Ron shrugged doubtfully. "Maybe someone who just has similiar black hair, shape of the face and voice ..."

"It's possible, of course."

Hermione sighed. "Can we not talk about this, just for tonight, please?"

They understood, and she could see that Harry and Remus, too, were probably rather relieved to avoid discussing Sirius right now ... especially in the light of his death ... and his guilt. Merlin's beard, was he guilty? Could she bring herself to accept what he was said to have done?

"How about another round of drinks?" Remus suggested.

There was unanimous agreement, and he stood up and went over to the desk to get more bottles of Butterbeer. As he was reaching down to the 'mini-bar' Harry had installed in the bottom of the desk, Hermione saw him stop and straighten up again, his brows contracting together. She saw him reach for a folded piece of parchment, and with a puzzled smile, she asked, "What's that?"

"I don't know," Remus murmured, unfolded the paper. It was extremely old, perhaps centuries old, and yellow and wrinkled considerably. Hermione studied the paper with keen interest, and then saw Remus, whose eyes were travelling over the contents of the page, turn white with shock. "_Merlin's beard ..._" He whispered hoarsely.

"Remus!" Harry prompted, curiosity palpable. "Remus? What is it?"

"What does it say?"

  
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A/N: Please, please review and let me know what you think of how this is going! And I don't think I can thank the people who have already reviewed and given me their opinions enough! The feedback really encourage and help me, and I really appreciate it!   
  
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	5. Life

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Five: Life   
  
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Jerked out of his daze by the insistent questions and inquires spewing from his young friends, Remus finally lifted his stunned gaze from the wrinkled old parchment and with an unsteady hand, handed it over to Hermione, who looked down at the writing with Harry and Ron peering curiously over her shoulder. Just like old times, she thought briefly, but her thoughts were quickly diverted.

The parchment had clearly been torn neatly out of a very old book, and the Golden Trio was considerably, and understandably (they felt), startled by the title of this page:

_The Sphere of Pagnon, by Augustus Grimp_

They all stared at each other for a long moment, and then Remus came back to his seat in an armchair, and looked at the younger occupants of the room. "Dumbledore's been searching for days for information, and it looks like we have it here. Maybe this could finally solve our problems and save a world from new evil. Hermione, why don't you read what it says out loud?"

"Sure," Hermione complied, and cleared her throat a little, and began to read:

  


Very little is known about the Sphere of Pagnon, and indeed, there have been times in recent history (and even now) where it was in serious doubt whether this marvellous globe actually ever existed. However, it is the belief of I, Augustus Grimp [Professor Grimp is well known for his work in alchemy and divination], that this miraculous device is very much in existence, although there has been no concrete proof of this.

Pagnon was an ancient wizard of Muggle descent, who became a recluse in his secret caves high up in the mountains of Norway, where he worked feverishly with the alignment of the stars and potions of nature. Thus, after nearly a century of work, he created a small globe of intense light. It was forged from the famous Northern Lights, up near the North Pole, and the alchemy of the ocean and underground salts. This globe was said to be enchanted with the power of the planets, a power that can be surpassed by no other. The Sphere of Pagnon is the greatest weapon to have ever been created.

Legend foretells that the Sphere may only be destroyed by the magic of a Chosen One, one who has been selected by fate to be born to two parents of magical orientation, into the time where the Sphere is put into use. May the Gods protect the world and the Chosen One when the time comes.

The magic of this Sphere runs thus: the stars align once every two thousand years, at midnight on the thirty-first day of the twelfth month of that particular year. When the complete alignment occurs, at that moment, it will generate such a concentrated beam of magic that it will flow directly to the Sphere, but only if it has been set upon the highest point within a mile radius. If this occurs, the Sphere's power will automatically retain the magic of the stars, and once the moment is gone, it will be retained for the next two thousand years.

Once this occurs, anyone in possession with the Sphere of Pagnon will have the ability to create and generate power and magic unlike anything ever seen before on this earth.

  


A long pause greeted the end of her words, and Hermione understood perfectly. While reading the page, she'd experienced a distinct sense of disbelief and shock, and the horror that there was someone out in their world, in possession of this Sphere, was enough to terrify a brick wall.

"Well," Ron said with his usual tact, "Aren't we in trouble!"

Harry groaned.

"We have to get this to Dumbledore," Hermione said, at once assuming charge of the situation, her methodical, thoughtful voice filling the silence, "He'll know how to deal with this, at least for now. None of us are going to be able to figure out this Chosen One, because there are no clues except for the fact that his or her parents will be a witch and wizard - so we can leave that out for now. Destroying the Sphere isn't our first priority, finding it is. And we'll have to check the planetary charts. We need to know when the next alignment is."

She had no idea how she was able to sound so cool, calm and collected, but somehow, she was managing it. Already, Ron looked less agitated, and Remus cast her a grateful, slightly impressed look. Then he said, looking around, "Can one of us Apparate outside Hogwarts and get to Dumbledore now? He'd want to hear about this rigth away."

"I'll go," Harry offered, standing up. "I'd like some reassurance from old Dumbledore anyway." He smirked, and with a wink and a nod, he took the parchment that Hermione held out to him. With a nod, he Disapparated and was gone.

"And now for the charts," Hermione said. She was about to stand up when both Remus and Ron pushed her back down. "What?" She protested, puzzled.

"Dumbledore will handle the charts in a second," Remus said firmly, "You've been hurt and you're tired. We all are. Quite honestly, I think finishing our Butterbeers and going to bed and getting a good night's sleep for once will do us all some good, rather than going traipsing about a cold London November in an attempt to find magical charts at some library."

"Fair point," Hermione conceded, with a sigh. "But I still - "

In response, Ron promptly clapped a hand over her mouth and cut off any further speech. She was inclined to be indignant, but with some indulgence, figured that one more day of not working her brains out wouldn't kill her - at least not right away.

Before they went to bed, however, there was a surprisingly quick disturbance in the form of the current messenger. Harry returned with a loud _Crack!_. He was shivering, clearly from stumbling in the magical Hogwarts snow, and was given a Butterbeer to warm him up, before he sat down and looked at them all with a rather grim expression on his face.

"Well," he said, and from his tone, Hermione knew at once that the news was not good. "Dumbledore read the parchment and was thrilled with us for bringing it for him, but neither he nor Professor McGonagall were happy. Apparently, this is worse than they thought, because the only real hope for us is to find the Sphere of Pagnon before anyone can use it. If we can't do that, the only thing left is for the Chosen One to destroy the Sphere, which is unlikely at this point because I don't have a clue who this Chosen person is. I think Dumbledore might suspect, though, but he said nothing."

"Merlin's beard," Ron groaned.

Hermione and Remus exchanged wary, tired looks of resignation, but then Harry said, "Wait, it gets worse, I'm afraid," (Ron let out a furious oath) " - They found out when the next planetary alignment is." He sighed, pausing as they all stared at him. "And here we have it: Midnight on December 31st, 2001. By 2001, of course, I mean _this damned year_."

"And we're in early November now," Hermione moaned.

"MERLIN'S BEARD." Ron swore.

"But on the bright side - "

"Oh, there's a bright side, is there?"

" - We shouldn't have anything to worry about really," Harry continued, ignoring his best friend's sarcasm, "Because last we heard, the Sphere of Pagnon was with the murderer of Aberforth Dumbledore, and - and well - the murderer of Aberforth Dumbledore - is - dead."

Hermione swallowed hard. "You call that a bright side? I can't believe Sirius would have done this! Why? Why would he have ever wanted such power? He was never so damned ambitious!"

"We're at a dead end again, aren't we, 'Mione?" Remus said quietly.

"I don't really consider it a bright side either," Harry exhaled heavily, "But it's the only silver lining to the cloud that we have. Either way, Dumbledore says there's no need to panic - " (Ron snorted, eliciting quick grins from the others) " - and that it would be best to find the Sphere of Pagnon before the alignment, just in case it's fallen into someone else's hands."

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "That's easier said than done."

"Yeah, I know." Harry admitted.

Remus looked thoughtful. "I suppose it would be wise to find the Sphere - of course it would - but unfortunately, we don't have an inkling of an idea of where to start looking. None of us seem to have any recollection of Sirius mentioning it at any point in time - " He swallowed and shook his head sadly in disbelief, " - And there's been no record of it over the past few years, or even decades! Only Dumbledore can find us a hint about where to begin searching, and that may - "

"Uh - well, actually, Remus," Harry interjected apologetically. "Dumbledore does have a couple of ideas. He suggested that you Apparate over to Yorkshire tomorrow, to the inn of some wizard named Genesis Monroe, and scout him out for a few days. Apparently, he's gotten reports about suspicions beams of light around the guy - from wizards, mind, which means they must be suspicious indeed."

"I'd be happy to go," Remus nodded agreeably. "A few days, Dumbledore says? Well, of course."

"And you and I, Ron," Harry added, looking at his best friend, "We're supposed to visit the old headquarters of the Death Eaters, where some of the weaker, injured and repentant ones still lurk. We're supposed to stay there for a few days as well, and watch them for any suspicious behavior, and then interrogate them about any rumors they may be hearing among the evil circles."

"Cool," Ron agreed, grinning. "I've been wanting to pay a visit to our old friends anyway."

Hermione personally thought Dumbledore had been remarkably swift with his ideas, and they were certainly wise decisions. She wondered why he hadn't given her something to do, and then reflected that someone was needed to keep an eye on things in London while the two young Aurors and the member of the Order were away.

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "But I have an Auror mission tomorrow, remember, so I'll have to join you at the moor the day after. You'll be fine for a day on your own. Just keep out of trouble," he teased, grinning. Ron conjured up a pillow and hurled it at him. "And 'Mione, I'll send Sean back by Floo Powder, when I'm done on the mission. He's a smart kid, and if it's okay with you, I'm sure he'll be fine if he says the address right."

At this point, Hermione said, "I certainly hope so. It's fine, Harry, but maybe I should get Hagrid to keep an eye out at all the dicey locales." There was a great deal of laughter, and then she added, "But I'm actually glad Dumbledore hasn't give me something to do out of town; I really couldn't leave Sean behind for more than a few days at a time."

"I'm sure Dumbledore understood that," Remus agreed, "And besides, he needs a reliable, clever somebody keeping an eye on the situations in London." He added, voicing Hermione's earlier thoughts.

Harry added, "Yup, Dumbledore told me that and also told me specifically to tell you to stay with Sean for most of the time while we're gone. Professor McGonagall will babysit sometimes, she said. Apparently, they're feeling rather grandparent-y and protective already."

They all laughed at that.

Remus turned to Hermione, "Well, if the three of us are taking off tomorrow, you and Sean will be alone here for a few days. Will you be all right, 'Mione?"

"Of course I will," Hermione smiled, knowing she'd need a lot of cheering up, but that there would be Sean, 'Aunt Minerva', and a lot of members of the Order to do the trick. "Don't worry, Remus, I'll definitely be fine on my own. Honestly."

"I know you will. Remember, if you ever need anything, you can either Apparate over there or send Pig right away to any of us. Ron will leave him with you, won't you, Ron, and we'll be right back in a second if you need anything - "

"Hey - Daddy!" She laughed teasingly. "I'll be _fine_."

  


***

  


Yet two days later, she had to admit she was lonely. She was in Diagon Alley, accompanied by Crookshanks, and getting some shopping done (an attempt at 'girl fun'). Sean was in the penthouse with Aunt Tonks, who'd dropped in to visit and chased Hermione away with the command to have fun. Personally, Hermione had some severe doubts about Tonks' capability of keeping herself - let alone Sean - out of trouble, but she'd agreed nonetheless.

Sean, she'd heard, had had a _great_ time watching Uncle Harry at work. It would become habit, if Hermione wasn't careful.

Smiling slightly to herself, she wandered towards the ice cream parlour. Before she could sit down with her cherry-and-strawberry soda (with strawberries that kept dancing in and out of the wretched drink), a young woman with spectacles raced over, beaming at Hermione although the younger girl had no clue who this woman was.

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?" The woman asked eagerly.

Hermione stared at her warily. "Uh - do I know you?"

"Oh no, but I know all about you, of course, Hermione," The woman chattered, beaming still. A piece of parchment appared in her hands, and a quill began dancing about the page. "My name is Jenny Skeeter, and I'm a reporter for the - " As the woman went on, Hermione was forcibly (and unpleasantly) reminded of Jenny's older sister, Rita Skeeter. "You're Harry Potter's right-hand woman, Dumbledore's daughter figure, Sirius Black's - "

"Do you want something?" Hermione cut her off coldly before she could get too close to home. Besides, she was a person in her own identity, not _attached_ to someone else's name! "I'm afraid I'm rather busy, and I have to - "

"This won't take long, dear," To Hermione's annoyance, Jenny Skeeter sat down in the chair opposite her outside the ice cream parlour. "Oh, a cherry-strawberry soda! I must have something just as delectable, although you must be very _bold_, to be able to risk your lovely figure like that!" (Hermione was not enamored by that comment) "Ah, yes, I'd like a Fizze Wizzbee Pop. Large, no foam - no, I'm afraid I'll decline the offer of the fizzing fountain of plum juice to rain down my head. Thank you."

She turned back to Hermione as if they were old, close friends. "Don't you just detest having plum juice cascade down your neck? _Why_ they offer it is beyond me, really! I mean, I must have declined it at least twenty times till now, Hermione, and I know they remember all their customers. I mean, don't you ever wonder, dear, why people just can't take a wretched hint?"

"All the time," Hermione gritted out pointedly. Unfortunately, this hint was not destined to be taken, because Jenny Skeeter continued rattling on. After five minutes of non-stop jabber, Crookshanks took a hand in the affair by jumping off Hermione's lap abruptly, letting out a surprising purr, and taking off in the direction of the nearby bushes.

Gratefully, distracted, Hermione looked after her cat, and saw that he seemed to have made friends with some other animal - it was half-hidden by the bushes, but it looked a little like a dog, perhaps. However, when she turned back to the ridiculously annoying reporter, Miss Skeeter was still talking. Unable to take it any longer, Hermione unceremoniously interrupted and demanded again what exactly the reporter wanted.

Jenny blinked, and then beamed again. "Oh well, I just happen to be _dying_ for a scoop for the paper, Hermione dear, and I'm sure you _must_ know who the murderer of Aberforth Dumbledore was, so it would be ever so sweet of you and I'd be ever so grateful if you could - "

Hermione sighed heavily. "You're still stuck on that? Don't you people come up with any _new_ material?" She asked irritably.

"Oh, well - "

"Excuse me, I think you're in my seat," A highly amused voice spiced with feigned indignation cut into the conversation. "Do be so kind as to remove yourself."

With muttered apologies, Jenny Skeeter hurried out of the chair, pausing only long enough (in the face of the expectant glare she was receiving) to tell Hermione she'd love it if the younger girl would give her an owl sometime. Then she was gone, in a swish of ludicrous neon silk, and Hermione grinned with eternal gratitude as a stocky, redheaded figure dropped into the vacated chair, laughing at her.

"You deserve a Purple Heart for that, George," she said fervently.

"What's a Purple Heart?" George Weasley inquired curiously, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "And I'm Fred, by the way. Heck, 'Mione, you'd think that after ten years of being friends, you'd know which was which!"

"Nice try, George."

He laughed, pretending to be crestfallen. "Oh well, I never could get out of the habit of loving that old joke," he explained with a grin. "So, been having trouble with the reporters these days, huh? I'm not surprised. They've even been mobbing _us_ because we're 'members of the Order of the Phoenix and brothers of Ron, Harry Potter's sidekick'." He looked disgusted. "After all the trouble Fred and I took to deny any acknowledgement of Ron, too."

"I suppose you've heard," Hermione raised her eyebrows, a sharp stab hitting her as she thought about it - again.

George nodded. "Yeah, we've heard. Mum, despite all her disapproval, refuses to accept it, and hexes anyone who brings the topic up at home. I gotta say myself, I can't believe Sirius was capable of it. I mean - it was _Sirius._ Not Wormtail, not Snape, not even Mundungus."

"I know, George," Hermione sighed. "But no one can find an explanation for why Scarlett Fetcherly could have seen anything else? And the possibility of Polyjuice Potion crossed our minds, but there's also no reason for anyone to have wanted to frame Sirius for being a murderer that might never have been pinpointed."

He shrugged. "Some things just can't be figured out. Wish he was alive, though. Although death's probably a better option than Azkaban. He knew what it was like; I doubt he'd have wanted to go back there." George paused, and then, with a grin, he pulled something out of his coat pocket. It was an old album, medium-sized and clearly full of photographs. "I found this at the Burrow when I visited the other day. I figure you or Harry must have left in Ron's room a long, long time ago - and since it was covered in dust, under a huge pile of rubbish, it must have been long forgotten."

"It's Sirius's photograph album of his Hogwarts days, and the recent times we'd all had," Hermione said, her eyes misting over as she held the leather-bound book. "Harry did leave it there; we found it in Grimmauld Place when - when we cleaned out his room."

"I thought you might like it," The Weasley twin smiled, clearly happy at the expression on her face.

She smiled. "Thanks, George."

  


***

  


There was a knock on the door.

Hermione looked at her watch. It had now been four days since the men had left the apartment, and she'd heard vague updates by owl post. Sean was fast asleep in bed. Her watch read ten o' clock. Who could be knocking on the penthouse door at this hour? Maybe there was something wrong ...

She shut the photo album, slipped her wand into the pocket of her denim shorts, and went to the door, opening it only to find Harry and Ron's neighbour, Mrs. Peabody, a friendly, motherly Muggle woman who lived two floors below, standing outside and smiling apologetically.

"Hello, Hermione dear," she said, "So sorry for coming by so late, but I just returned from the theatre, and was downstairs on the pavement outside, when I saw this poor dog wandering about in such a lonely fashion." She indicated something in the corridor, but it was out of sight for Hermione. "And I tried to feed it, when wouldn't you know? It had a scrap of paper it its mouth, with this address on it."

Hermione stiffened ever so slightly. "Really?" She frowned, puzzled.

"Yes, oh - here he is."

The dog came into view. It was large, beautiful, black - and familiar. Hermione froze, and stared at the dog like she couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't. She had to be seeing wrong - of course she was - all the thoughts she'd been having lately had played havoc on her mind and she was warping reality now ... she had to be ... 

"Are you all right, dear?" Mrs. Peabody asked worriedly, as the dog whined softly at Hermione. "You look a little - faint."

Hermione tried to shake herself out of the trance, but the images in her vision didn't change. The dog's appearance didn't change. She swallowed hard, trying to regain hold of her control, and managed, "Oh - yes, yes the dog - belongs here. He - he's been gone for a long time - we - we thought he was dead, so I'm - I'm a little - shocked."

. 

"I understand, dear, of course. Although I didn't know Harry and Ron had a dog?"

"He's - he's mine," Hermione murmured, her voice sounding faraway and unlike her own. The dog looked up and her with what was unmistakably a humorous look, and she might have blushed had the circumstances been different - very different. "Yes. Thank - thank you, Mrs. Peabody - for - for finding - and returning - him. I - appreciate it. Goodnight."

She closed the door after the dog walked slowly into the apartment, and stood still by the couch, watching the animal as if in a daze. In a streak of colour, Crookshanks burst from Hermione's room, purred by her and then wandered straight up to the dog, purring affectionately.

"It's finally happened," Hermione murmured weakly, trying to shake the fixed image out of her head, because it could not be real! "Finally, I've finally gone mad. Dear God, this can't be real ... I'm seeing things ... like I need any more trouble, I'm actually _seeing_ things ... oh, my ..." Her voice and breath caught as the dog gave her that humorous look again, only this time it had a hint of regret in it.

And then, the large black dog turned into a man.

  
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A/N: Ha! I love moments like these in stories ... I hope you guys like it too! Updates coming as soon as I possibly can!   
  
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	6. Broken Hero

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Six: Broken Hero   
  
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**   
  


Hermione didn't faint, but she came very close to it.

Seeing her color drain right out of her face, and as she swayed unsteadily, the man moved forward quickly and wrapped strong arms around her, jerking her out of unconsciousness and bringing her back to reality. She stared into warm, deep black eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. His breath was shallow and soft, his eyes burning into hers intensely, and she saw regret, elation, and emotion in there.

"S-Sirius?" The name came out as a choked sob.

He swallowed hard; she saw the movement in his throat. "It's me, 'Mione."

"P-Polyjuice Po - Potion?"

"You, Harry and Ron used to call me Snuffles sometimes. Otherwise, it was Padfoot. I'm an Animagus as you can see, like James, Remus and Peter - who is dead, thank God. I was one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map."

That was proof enough, but she still couldn't believe it. Slowly, her hand trembling, she reached up to touch his jaw, hard and strong with the sexy roughness of a day's stubble. He was solid; the arms holding her tightly were real enough ... but how could this be? Something burst inside her, and she slipped her arms around his neck, lip quivering, and tilted her head up. Without hesitating, Sirius lowered his head to kiss her - softly at first, temptingly, and then hard and hungrily, three years of nothing bringing the deep longing and hunger they'd both felt bubbling to the surface.

When they broke apart, time had certainly gone by. Hermione was shaken with emotion - the kiss was just as mind-blowing as always. "It was _you_," She gasped softly, "You saved me; pulled me back, conjured the bandages and locked the door so that they wouldn't see you ... it was you."

"Yeah, damn it, that was me. What if I hadn't been there? What if - Merlin's beard, do you have any idea how hard that was for me? How hard it was for me to see what you were about to do ..." His voice cracked and he shook his head, "Damn it, Hermione, what do you think I'd have done if you'd gone through with what you did? I wasn't about to lose you!"

"But - you're - you're here. How?" She whispered, tears filling her eyes. Staring at him, a thirty-seven-year-old man who looked just as handsome and strong as always ... if a little saddened. How could this be possible? How could he be alive after everything they'd seen, gone through? How had he come back? Choking on her words, she asked him.

"I didn't come back," He confessed quietly after a long hesitation, releasing her and taking a small step backwards. "I was never dead."

Hermione stared, wrapping her arms around herself. "But I saw - "

"I think it's time I explained," Sirius said quietly, "I've been alive these past three years. The curse Voldemort threw at you was a cruel one - one meant to kill only a Muggle-born. It would only Stun a pureblood or Squib or even halfblood, and the moment I woke up again, deep in the shadows of the forests, I knew what the spell really had been. And I realized I was alive, and that you were too. At least, I hoped you were. I couldn't know what had happened after I'd - fallen." He shrugged sadly. "You all assumed Voldemort's army burnt my body, and that's why you never found it. But I disappeared; I fled from the scene, because I realized that my 'death' gave me the opportunity to do something with all my soul and energy - and that I had a better chance of success."

In amazed disbelief, Hermione mumbled, "What did you want to do?"

"Find the Sphere of Pagnon."

It seemed like cold ice flooded every part of Hermione. For so long she'd clung to the hope of his innocence, but now this - Sirius, who she thought she'd known so well, who had never once mentioned anything remotely linking to the Sphere of Pagnon - this was almost like a confession.

"Why?" She asked flatly.

"When I was sixteen, I was brooding in the library over something - and due to my reckless temper, I cursed a shelf. The books went scattering, and Madam Pince was so angry that she made me pick up and replace the books one by one - without the help of magic. While I was doing it, I came across this dusty old book that looked like no one had touched it in decades, and when it fell open, it opened to the page I left for you on the desk there."

She didn't respond. Sirius sighed, and continued, "Naturally, I was intrigued by the Sphere of Pagnon and was stunned by the immense power the book told of. I did a little more research, secretly, and found that the damned thing does indeed exist. That was when the implication struck me - that if I was able to find out about this incredible weapon, so could any ambitious minion determined to achieve greatness. A new Voldemort threatened, and so I decided to find the Sphere and restore it to safe hands before anyone else could."

Before she could reply to that, the sound of softly shuffling footsteps alerted them both to the fact that Sean, small and toddling in his baby blue pajamas with a Muggle favorite - Kermit the Frog - on them. He was clutching a very, very old teddy bear in his hands, and was looking curiously up at his mother and the rather familiar man she was with.

"Oh." He said, quite cheerfully despite the sleepiness in his voice, breaking the stunned silence in which the two adults stared at him. "Hi!"

Hermione shot a look at Sirius, and saw that he was staring at the little boy with a half-affectionate, half-bemued expression on his startled face. "Hi," he responded with that old rakish grin, which sent her heart stopping, as he crouched down to look the boy in the eye. Suddenly, he laughed. "Is that _my_ old teddy bear?"

"Uh - yeah, we found it in the closet in your room at Grimmauld Place. I hope you don't mind." Hermione said quickly.

Sirius looked at her, smiling. "Of course I don't mind."

"If this is your teddy bear, then you must be Sirius," Sean said brightly, a little perplexity crossing over his features. "I'm Sean." He stuck out a little hand, and Sirius shook it with a surprised grin. "Mommy told me all about you. I always wanted to meet you, because you sounded so cool and did such cool things! But Mommy told me you were dead. I guess she made a mistake, huh?"

Hermione froze. The grin had faded off Sirius's face, and he stared from the little boy to Hermione, and when his eyes met hers, she felt like something was ripping apart in her heart to see that flash of hurt and betrayal. "Mommy?" He asked quietly. "You're - you're married?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. She didn't elaborate further. 

Sean looked between them. "No, Mommy's not married!" He responded helpfully before Hermione could stop him. "I don't really remember my daddy, and I don't know where he is now, but my Mommy said he's a great guy."

Slowly, Sirius managed a smile again. "I'm sure he must be, Sean," He said quietly, ruffling the little boy's hair with obvious affection. Hermione's heart nearly broke. If only he hadn't - it was so - so like a picture - of what could have been ... Sean grinned, came over to kiss Hermione, and returned to his room to go back to sleep. Sirius looked at Hermione, and shrugged slightly. "I guess I shouldn't have expected that you wouldn't find someone else over these three years - I mean, just look at you - but I never thought ..."

"Sirius - "

"It's all right, 'Mione," He shrugged again, his voice almost indifferent but Hermione thought she detected a note of iron control in there. "You don't have to explain."

No, but he did.

"About this Sphere of Pagnon. You didn't tell anyone what you'd found out?" She asked skeptically, swiftly changing the subject and frowning at him, suddenly shaken and stunned again by the fact that he was alive and well. "Not even James or Remus?"

"No," Sirius said ruefully, raking his fingers through his short hair. A muscle - one of anger? - throbbed in his jaw. "I don't know why I kept it a secret - pride maybe, a secret life mission - and all the time we were fighting Voldemort, joining the Order, all that - I was still trying to track down the wretched weapon, and that was why I didn't let anyone find out I was still alive then. When I read the article, mentioned the Sphere of Pagnon, I came back to London."

Hermione swallowed hard, feeling like her heart was shattering all over again. He'd come back - because of a damned weapon? Not for Harry, not for Remus ... not for her. For a _weapon_. And everything she'd ever thought she'd known about him - 

"Rather careless, wasn't it?" She said quietly, "To lose such a powerful weapon."

Sirius frowned. "Lose it? I never had it."

She ignored this, and turned away slightly, trying to make sure he couldn't see the pain that was threatening to break her down - again. "You shouldn't be here," She said flatly, closing her eyes to stop the tears from brimming there, "You have to go, Sirius. If anyone finds out that you're alive and that you were here - if the Ministry finds out - they'll take Sean away from me."

"Hold on." Sirius stared at her, his brow furrowing in surprise. "Why will the Ministry take Sean away from you if they find me here?"

Hermione couldn't believe him. "Because of Aberforth," she bit out.

"Aberforth?" He looked at her with complete perplexity. "What in hell do I have to do with Aberforth's death and murder?"

"You - " Hermione broke off, staring at him in confusion. If this was an act, it was highly convincing. "Sirius, they - they think you were the one who murdered Aberforth, and had the Sphere of Pagnon."

"WHAT?!"

"Hey, don't yell at me!" She snapped, suddenly angry. "I wasn't the damned eyewitness who said she saw you with Aberforth in the alley, mentioning the damned Sphere."

At those words, Sirius's incredulous expression suddenly changed to one of bitter knowledge. "_Scarlett ..._" He spat out.

"What about her?"

"She said she saw me? Heard my voice? That I was the one who killed Aberforth and gloated on about the power of the Sphere of Pagnon?" Sirius demanded, his eyes flashing with anger and bitterness, "Damn it, Hermione, don't you know better than that? She's lying!"

"Why would she lie? Why would she want to frame you?"

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but then his eyes fell on the photo album on the couch. He moved towards it - his old photo album - and picked it up, flipping pictures until he came to one he wanted. "Here," he jabbed at a picture where he and James were smiling and waving, and a pretty girl was standing in the background with a green-haired boy. The look of adoration in her face as she stared at Sirius was obvious. "That's her. Scarlett Fetcherly."

"Who was she?"

"She and I went out a few times during my fifth and sixth year, but eventually I decided she was too spiteful and malicious for me, and broke it off. She was outraged - and a little crushed, I think. She swore revenge, cursed me with everything she had, and even tried some voodoo crap which nearly got me killed. Eventually, she found love in the arms of Donny Tyler - " He jabbed at the green-haired punk boy, " - but she never forgave me for rejecting her. She came to see me in Azkaban once too, you know," Sirius's mouth twisted wryly as he remembered, "Laughed and sneered at me, telling me how much I deserved to rot forever. Maybe - maybe she couldn't handle the thought of my being remembered as a hero, and came back here to stain my legacy - her final revenge."

"Or maybe, she framed you to protect the real killer." Hermione shrugged dully. "I don't know, Sirius, how can I tell if you're telling me the truth?"

He looked at her with emotion smouldering in black eyes. "Because I'm begging you to."

Hermione stared at him in dead silence. Her heart leaped, but at the same time, it sank with the knowledge that _he_ could be lying. Even the story about Scarlett Fetcherly may be a fabrication, apart from the obvious that she did indeed adore him. After all, he'd kept his own secret of the Sphere hidden for so long, and deceived them all about his death for his own reasons ... 

"Did you kill him?" She asked, point-blank.

He looked at her, and then his eyes softened and he walked forward to brush his finger across her cheek tenderly. "No." His voice shook with sincerity and emotion. "I would never have killed him. I never wanted the Sphere to access its power, 'Mione."

"Sirius ..." Hermione's voice choked on a breath, and she wanted to believe it so badly - she _did_ believe it with all the love and loyalty in her heart. "I - I knew it couldn't have been you. We - we all tried to tell them - but they wouldn't listen - we tried - but I knew. I knew you weren't like that!" Tears burned in her eyes, but she blinked them away and shook her head. 

"And they've been calling me a hero," He said wryly. "I'm no hero."

She smiled slightly. "You still are, Sirius. Even if the curse failed, the fact that you were still willing to take the curse - to die - for me," her voice cracked, "Makes you a hero."

His eyes shadowed painfully. "I would never have let you die."

"You don't realize how many times I've wished you had let me die instead." Hermione swallowed. She forced herself to harden, and added quietly, "You should have told us, Sirius, told someone about the Sphere." 

"Don't I wish I did?" He said bitterly. "But after I was 'dead' - it was too late to tell someone. I seized the opportunity to put an end to the new threat of evil. I went all over the world searching, because there were rumors in the evil circles that someone had gotten their hands on it. If I could turn back time, I might have revealed that I was alive and took Dumbledore and all of you into my confidence, but God help me, 'Mione, I went ahead and sacrificed everything I loved - all because I just wanted to protect the world from the disaster was coming, and fool that I was, I thought I could do it alone."

Hermione understood what he was saying at once. It was a result of being rather overshadowed by James, and then by the other members of the Order, that Sirius had felt the need to prove himself. But one thing she couldn't understand - one thing she could _never_ understand - was him letting them believe all this time that he was dead, without realizing what he was putting them through.

As if he'd read her thought, which he probably had because he knew her so well, he murmured brokenly, "I made a mistake, 'Mione. But - but I need you to forgive me. _Please_ forgive me for what I've done."

Maybe he wasn't a murderer or a new Dark Lord, but he had committed his crimes. She thought about the grief Remus had gone through, the hurt and loss all Sirius's friends and teammates had suffered. She remembered the laughter dying from the Weasley twins' and Ron's faces as they realized Sirius wasn't coming back, the anguish of Harry. And she remembered the fear, the pain, the guilt she'd suffered ... the endless guilt ... the searing pain that never stopped.

He could have stopped that.

But he'd been too damned intent on being noble and trying to save the world.

How could she forgive him for that?

"I can't." She whispered. He exhaled on a heavy, broken sigh, and then moved closer to her, tilting her chin up and making her look at him. She tried to break free of his grasp, almost half-heartedly, because suddenly flashes of memory came back to her and she wanted him with every fibre of her being. "Damn it, Sirius, let me go. What do you want from me?"

He was shaking slightly, his gaze intense as it raked her over, his eyes shadowed with regret and desire. "You - you know what I want, 'Mione," He growled softly.

"No." She refused, and then melted as he leaned down to kiss her again. A warm, slightly sad laugh bubbled from his throat at her easy surrender, and his tongue gently ran over her lips, making her open her mouth and let him in. His arms wound around her, one hand slipping under her shirt to brush her flat stomach, to tenderly run her fingers over the wound she'd inflicted on herself, the wound he'd help heal ...

Anguished, she broke away. "I realize we have to work together now, to remove the Sphere of Pagnon from evil hands." She said tonelessly. "But I - I can't forget what you've done. The _pain_ we went through ... the guilt I felt - still feel - God, Sirius." She swallowed hard, and flattened her voice again. "You can sleep in one of the guy's rooms."

"'Mione - "

"Don't." She whispered. "I can't."

She risked another glance at him, and saw that his face was dark with hurt, but there was comprehension there, understanding of why she couldn't forgive him. He blamed himself too, she knew, but she couldn't help him there. With a sigh, she sat down on the couch, half-hoping he would retire to one of the bedrooms and leave her to her troubled, jumbled thoughts. The fact that he was alive was enough of a shock for one day ... with everything else on top of all that ...

Before either of them could speak or move further, however, there was a loud _Crack!_ in the room. They both started violently, shaken out of their respective trances, and turned their heads to see Remus Lupin materialize out of thin air.

He saw Hermione first, evidently, and said, "Hey, 'Mione, how're you doing? I'm finally done there," His tone was full of disgust, "Glowworms. _Glowworms_," He repeated disgustedly, "That was what I went to investigate. The wizard's a wretched collector of GLOW - _Merlin's beard._"

The last, hoarse whisper came, of course, because Remus suddenly saw Sirius. He froze, staring at the face of a dead best friend, and Sirius, his eyes clouding over with emotion, managed, "Hey, Moony, old pal."

"Si - ?"

Remus couldn't finish, as at that very moment (ridiculously convenient timing, Hermione thought sardonically), A redhaired figure appeared in the room with a cracking noise. Ron had Apparated right on top of the coffee table, and he saw Sirius at once, stared with eyes bulging for exactly three seconds before he lost his balance, let out a shriek, and fell off the table.

It didn't stop there. Ron had fallen when another _Crack_ signalled the arrival of Harry, who landed neatly on the couch beside Hermione, grinned at her with a few words of inquiry about how she'd been, cast Ron a resigned look, looked with concern at Remus, who seemed frozen in place, and then turned a smile on Sirius, before the smile froze as he recognized him.

His emotion was palpable. "_Merlin's beard._" He choked out.

"Join the club." Hermione muttered.

  
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A/N:   
  
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	7. Friends Never Say Goodbye

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize. The song here is "Friends Never Say Goodbye" by Elton John, from The Road to El Dorado.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Seven: Friends Never Say Goodbye   
  
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Over the following weeks, there was intense activity amongst the Order of the Phoenix. It began, of course, with Harry catapulting across the room and hugging his godfather, nearly crying, and then regaining control of himself. Then it was Remus's turn, and Sirius looked considerably worse for wear. Then came a relatively quiet celebration held at the Burrow, during which Sirius was overwhelmed by all his friends and teammates, interrogated mercilessly, gushed over by Mrs. Weasley and Tonks, and hugged and kissed till he protested by Fred and George (in exaggerated affection, although it was obvious that they were thrilled), and so on.

Then Dumbledore and Sirius spent a day at Hogwarts, during which they discussed all they could about the situation and heavy work began on the subject of the Sphere of Pagnon. Apart from Auror duties, Harry also joined Remus and Sirius in their field world - searching all possible locales for a killer, which stemmed from the reports Dumbledore continually received. Ron, Fred, George and Mrs. Weasley were given the duty of prowling the London streets and magical locales, keeping an eye and ear out for rumours and news from the underworld and other places.

Hermione volunteered instinctively to do research with Professor McGonagall, because not only was it her best area of work and it allowed her to spend a lot of time with Sean, but she also knew Sirius was far too restless to opt for researching. It caused a constant, terrible ache, especially as she saw how happy the others were, but she avoided him as much as possible, and indeed, over the following weeks, they were all so busy and their hours so warped that she saw very little of him.

Remus and Harry both tried once each to talk to her about it, but she had refused to continue any discussions. Maybe they were more forgiving but she'd been hurt. She'd suffered nightmares and terrible guilt over it, and when she thought about how their loyalty, faith and love for him had been tested by the suspicions, his death, the Ministry - 

"Hi, Mommy, you're back."

It was the 14th of December, and the watch on Hermione's wrist read ten-fifteen. She had just gotten back to the penthouse after a tiring evening at the British Museum, and Sean was draped in an armchair, watching TV (Harry's latest acquisition into the apartment) and wide awake.

"Hey, sweetie," She kissed him on the head and lifted him up into her arms briefly. "What are you still doing awake, big boy? It's way past your bedtime. Were you nice to Aunt Minerva until she had to leave at eight o' clock? And where's your babysitter?"

"Over there." Sean grinned mischievously, and nodded towards the couch, where Ron was sprawled, clearly blissfully enjoying dreamland.

Hermione snorted. "Some babysitter. Hey, Ron!"

"No, Mum, lemme sleep for longer ..." Ron slurred in his sleep, turning over. Hermione laughed and pointed her wand at him, levitating him and transporting him through the air into his bedroom and onto the bed. Remus was going to be at Hogwarts for the night, Harry was probably fast asleep already in the Burrow as he had a mission at four A.M leading off from nearby there, and she had no idea where Sirius was (nor did she care, she told herself).

Therefore,with all the others irretrievable at the moment, the choice had been between Ron and Mundungus Fletcher, and as much as Hermione liked Dung, she had absolutely no desire to have his influence solely dominating her son, even for a couple of hours.

She returned to the living room and turned off the TV, turning to her son.

"Bed?"

"Will you read me a story first?" Sean gave her his adorably irresistible look that reminded Hermione so forcefully of someone that she stiffened for a moment, and then smiled. "Please, Mommy? Sing me a song! The song about friends."

Hermione pondered the identity of this elusive song, and finally remembered which one her son was referring to. Singing had been a motherly acquisition, and no one except for Sean knew that she could hold a note. Stifling a yawn and smiling, she curled up on the couch, scooped Sean into her lap, and leaned back into the soft cushions in an attempt to get comfortable. Then, through heavy lids and eyes that prickled with sudden tears at the meanings in the song, she sang softly in her sweet voice:

There isn't much I haven't shared  
With you along the road  
And through it all there'd always be  
Tomorrow's episode.  
Suddenly that isn't true  
There's another avenue  
Beckoning, the great divide  
Ask no questions, take no side.  
Who's to say who's right or wrong?  
Whose course is braver run?  
Still we are, have always been,  
Will ever be ... as one.  
  
What is done, has been done for the best,  
Though the mist in my eyes might suggest  
Just a little confusion about what I'll lose,  
But if I started over, I know I would choose  
The same joy, the same sadness, each step of the way  
That fought me and taught me, that friends never say -  
Never say goodbye  
Never say goodbye  
Never say goodbye ... 

As she hummed the last words, and they trailed off into a whisper, Hermione's head snuggled deeper into the cushion, her cheek resting on Sean's head as he slept curled up in her arms, his head cuddled under her neck. She slept dreamlessly for the next hour or so, a rare moment of peace descending over her, but the hour of rest did not last long.

With soft _Crack_s, a few people Apparated into the living room. With low murmurs and whispers, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall conjured up a couple more armchairs and sat down. Remus sat down as well, and Harry went into Ron's bedroom and reappeared with him (Ron grumbled and moaned, but stumbled out in his undersized maroon pajamas anyway).

Only Sirius remained standing in the same spot that he'd Apparated onto, staring at the sleeping mother and child. He didn't notice the covert glances the others shot him, but he was aware of it when Dumbledore gently said, "We must wake her."

"Do we have to?" Sirius asked, frowning. "She looks so - peaceful. Why not let them sleep?"

"She has to know, Padfoot," Remus said, his eyes slightly worried, "Dumbledore's kept silent about it for too long. Hermione would want to know."

With a sigh, Sirius nodded in agreement and dropped into the last empty armchair.

Professor McGonagall leaned over, and gently shook Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione? Hermione, dear? It's me - Minerva. Professor McGonagall. Wake up, Hermione."

"Mmm?" Hermione murmured drowsily, and she opened her eyes slightly. Sirius watched her, his control reaching dangerously strained limits, as she licked her lips sleepily and looked about as if in a daze. Her brown eyes clouded and then snapped to life as she realized that there were no less than six people staring at her all around her. Straightening slightly, her arms tightening around Sean, who was still asleep, she said, "What's wrong?"

"Just a meeting that needed to be had," Dumbledore assured her with a smile and twinkling blue eyes. "Why not let Sirius take Sean to his room and tuck him into bed? You look very tired, my dear."

Hermione shot Dumbledore a close look, but he just gave her that obnoxiously happy, benign look.

"All right," She said, as Sirius stood up obediently and crossed the three feet between his armchair and the couch, reaching down and taking Sean from her grasp. She watched as his arms gently lifted the little boy up, and held him securely. Sean stirred in his sleep and turned his head into Sirius's throat. For a moment, everyone stared at the faces of man and boy, one innocent and peaceful, the other wryly affectionate - and then Sirius turned around abruptly, and went into the little bedroom. Hermione had been staring at her hands the whole time, but the others, Remus in particular, saw the flash of a breaking heart in Sirius's fathomless eyes.

When Sirius returned and resumed his seat, Dumbledore said, "Well, first of all, Hermione, there's something you need to know. You and Ron are the only ones right now who still are unaware of it, although I'm sure you may suspect, but I've suspected it for a long time now."

"What?" Ron asked eagerly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but grew more concerned behind the half-moon glasses. "I believe we are all aware of the contents of the page Sirius left you earlier, regarding the Sphere of Pagnon. You, Hermione, I'm sure, will recall the passages about a 'Chosen One' - the one who will have the concentrated magic alone to destroy the Sphere of Pagnon."

"Yes, of course," Hermione nodded, "The page said something about - " She racked her memory, " - Oh yeah, about how the Chosen One will be born into the time when the Sphere comes into play, and he or she will be the child of a witch and wizard."

"An excellent memory, Hermione, you're absolutely right," Dumbledore smiled, "Well, I believe I know who the Chosen One is, and I'll be honest: although I have complete faith in him, it worries me that he will be put into danger if the current holder of the Sphere finds out."

"Who is it?" Ron asked, eyes boggling in curiosity. "Is it Harry?"

Harry sighed heavily. "No, but this time, I almost wish it was."

"Why?" Hermione asked. Harry had always wished to be anyone but the Boy Who Lived, so why would he want to be the - her thoughts stopped abruptly. He would want to take the responsibility ... if the Chosen One was someone he cared about ...

They were all staring at her, with that kind of gentle, compassionate sympathy, their own eyes shadowed with concern and fear, and in that instant, Hermione knew.

Her heart plummeted.

"No ..." She whispered, her insides going cold with sudden fear. "Oh, Professor Dumbledore, don't - "

Dumbledore looked at her sympathetically. "There is no other, Hermione, and no other possibility. You remember what I showed you a long time ago; here is where that prophecy comes into play."

"_What_ are you all talking about?" Ron demanded, eternally at sea.

Remus looked at him. "The Chosen One is Sean, Ron."

"Sean Granger? _Sean Taurus Granger_?" Ron was fast beginning to hyperventililate, and Harry's thumping his shoulder reassuringly did not seem to help his panicked state in the least. "As in, Hermione's son, Sean? My Nephew Sean?"

Professor McGonagall unblushingly conjured a glass of water, and magically dumped half on Ron's head before allowing the glass to drop into his hand for him to drink. "Your fear is quite understandable, Mr. Weasley, but I can assure you your panic does not soothe a mother's feelings in the least." She said tartly, sounding remarkably like the teacher she had been to the redhead.

"Are - are you sure, Professor?" Hermione asked Dumbledore quietly.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Surely you've seen it yourself, Hermione, I know you're far too clever for the signs to have escaped you. Sean is an extraordinarily powerful young wizard - even Harry did not have quite so strong a bond between his willpower and emotions, and his magic."

Hermione swallowed.

"Don't worry," Sirius said abruptly, startling her (and surprising everyone else) with the sound of his voice speaking out gruffly, "None of us are going to let anyone hurt Sean. He'll be fine."

Remus smiled, and so did Harry. "He's right, 'Mione," He rubbed her shoulder gently, "We'll always be there to protect Sean. And don't forget that old saying - damn it, what's the wretched thing? Ah yes - _hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn_ or something like it anyway. Add 'mother' to woman, and you'll have the truth."

"Yeah," Ron added gallantly, seemingly ashamed of his panic earlier, "I mean - mothers are always the most formidable opponents for anyone. Think about Mum! She's a dragon, even with us! And remember Harry's mum Lily, and what - " He broke off, flushing and looking sheepish. "Ouch."

"Indeed." Professor McGonagall said sharply, while Dumbledore looked a little amused.

"If we could return to the actual issue at hand," Dumbledore suggested mildly at this point, looking around, "You do see that we have a problem. The alignment is due in a few minutes less than seventeen days, and as Sean's birth indicates, the Sphere will definitely be put into use at midnight on the 31st. That's been confirmed by the news we've been hearing from the underworld circles: _someone_ has the Sphere of Pagnon, and we still have no idea who that someone is. Unless we can pinpoint our perpetrator - the same one who murdered my brother - we can't hope to find the Sphere, or destroy it."

Hermione considered this hard, trying to banish the demons of her son's fate looming over her. "Well, perhaps I could ask Tonks to get into disguise, and she and I could go and scout out the underworld bars tomorrow ..."

"I don't think so." Sirius growled.

"You're not my father." Hermione snapped.

"Believe me, I feel like anything but your father."

Ron stifled his laughter very unsuccessfully, and Remus hastily intervened to say, "Well, I think this argument is pointless because nobody is going to be doing much tomorrow. Don't forget tomorrow - or rather, today - is the first Gryffindor match of the Quidditch season, and a lot of the kids we knew - including Dennis Creevey, I might add - are playing."

"Oh, yes!" Professor McGonagall remembered. "Albus, I'm sure they could all take a break from work just for the afternoon and come to watch the match."

"I see no harm in it," Dumbledore smiled, "A break would do everyone a lot of good, and recharge the energy stores for the work after that. And Hermione? I'm sure Sean would love his first Quidditch match to be a Gryffindor-Slytherin one, especially as I strongly suspect he'll be sorted into Gryffindor when he arrives for his first year at Hogwarts."

Hermione felt her spirits soar as the others laughed, and the topic became infinitely more inspiring. Just thinking about Sean getting to Hogwarts was enough to inspire confidence in her. She smiled. "You really think he'll be an instant Gryffindor, Professor? What about Ravenclaw?"

"Oh, I think he has all the Gryffindor characteristics ... intelligence, skill, loyalty, devotion, a certain knack for mischief and pranks - and besides, both his parents are Gryffindors, aren't they?"

Sirius scowled darkly. "Oh, really?"

"Really," Dumbledore said serenely.

Seeing Hermione's look of pained reproof at this topic being brought up, Remus nobly intervened to diffuse yet another sticky situation. "Well," he said, "As I'm sure the meeting's contents have been well discussed - perhaps we should all get some sleep now, so that we can have the energy to cheer at a Quidditch match and start hunting down a rising Dark Lord."

"_You_ can get some sleep," Harry said grumpily, "But _I_ have a mission assigned to me by the Ministry at four in the damned morning!"

"I did warn you, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said sternly, her eyes twinkling behind her spectacles nonetheless, "That being an Auror would be very hard work indeed."

  


***

  


Sean loved Quidditch.

From the moment he sat down in the stands, on Harry's lap because otherwise he would be too small to see over the seats in front and below, Hermione could see that he was about to enjoy every moment of it. Ron and Harry explained the various aspects of the game in simplest language as the game began, and the announcer (Lee Jordan's younger brother) proudly bellowed into the microphone that "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm also proud to inform the school that Harry Potter, Hogwarts' greatest Seeker, is here with us today - in the company of Ron Weasley, Gryffindor's Keeper at one time, and Hermione Granger [The Golden Trio, people!], and many others!"

Hermione cheered herself hoarse, suddenly transported to the old days where she'd been sitting and cheering for Harry, and then for both Harry and Ron. She looked at Fred and George, who had showed up for the match as well, and remembered their tricks and pranks too.

She thought about the years they'd spent here together. The things they'd done, the friendship and loyalty and love they'd formed between themselves and the others like Remus, and Sirius, and Tonks. As she watched the school scream and boo, watched the Chasers duck in and out and Dennis Creevey nearly topple off his broom twice, her mind wandered back over their times ...

She remembered the very first Quidditch match, when Harry had been too nervous to eat, and he'd caught the Snitch in his mouth. The meeting with Fluffy, who nearly bit their legs off, and their reactions upon hearing Hagrid's affection for the wretched creature ... the Philosopher's Stone ... Ron sacrificing himself for them in the chess game, and Snape's supposedly ingenious potion logic that she'd solved ... Harry going ahead bravely, and winning the round against Voldemort ...

Second year ... the Chamber of Secrets ... being Petrified ... Ginny's crush on Harry, and all that drama ... everyone thinking Harry was the heir of Slytherin ... Third year ... the terror of Sirius Black being after Harry Potter ... the Dementors in the School ... the dangerous Quidditch matches and the Firebolt ...

And so it went on. Hermione turned her gaze from the scarlet and green figures streaking across the Quidditch pitch and looked from Harry's excited face as he explained something to Sean, his knee bobbing energetically, to Ron's elation as he leaped up and bellowed himself hoarse as one of Gryffindors knocked a Slytherin out of the path of a goal, to Ginny laughing indulgently, to Remus's smiling, mild gaze as he glanced around the pitch and at everyone, making sure they were all right.

Sirius wasn't there, of course, because no one was supposed to know he was alive until his name was cleared, and although she couldn't forgive him for what he'd done, Hermione suddenly wanted very much for the circle to be complete.

But she supposed the Muggle singers were right sometimes ...

Friends never did say goodbye.

She stood up, requesting Harry and Ron to keep a close watch on Sean, and headed down the corridor. Remus shot her a questioning look as she reached the stairs, and smiling, she said, "I'm going to head back to the apartment. I'll see you guys later, all right?"

"Be careful," came Remus's eternal cautionary. Hermione smirked and headed down the stairs and off towards the Hogwarts gates. She stopped for five minutes to talk to Hagrid, whom she hadn't seen in a couple of days, and then carried on until she was off the grounds. Then the Disapparated - 

And reappeared in the penthouse living room. She saw Sirius standing just a few yards away, jabbing frustratedly with his wand at the TV screen, which was blaring out some awful heavy metal music. Sirius looked utterly flummoxed, and despite herself, Hermione giggled.

"You might want to try pushing the red button with your finger," she suggested.

The TV turned off, and Sirius turned to her, grinning. "Hell, but I hate those Muggle inventions. Completely pointless, that's what they are. I mean, what does anyone _do_, staring at a screen of people who aren't even _real_. I'm quite content with the Wizarding Wireless, thanks."

"I missed you at the match, Sirius."

He broke off abruptly, staring at her, clearly incredulous. Then, slowly, that sexy grin broke across his handsome face, and he walked towards her, reaching out and gently running his thumb over her lower lip before he kissed her. She didn't protest - everything inside her screamed 'Just this once! One more moment with him!' - and she merely wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

She sank down onto the couch, pulling him on top of her. His mouth tore apart from hers to trace hot, warm breaths down the side of her neck, sucking on her earlobe. His hand slid under her shirt and worked its way teasingly up till he moaned, and she nuzzled into the warm hollows of his neck, leaving a perfect trail of moisture down along his roughened jaw, to his collarbone.

The buttons of his shirt were removed, and he was kissing her again, his breathing shallow and pleading as her hands slid onto the hard warmth of his chest. She drew in a sharp intake of breath as she felt his heart - his _life_ - thump dangerously fast under her searching fingers. She kissed his shoulder, tasting the slightest touch of salt the beginnings of perspiration. His body was trembling slightly, but then, so was hers. As if unable to take it any longer, Sirius uttered a soft growl and hi arms crawled around her waist tightly. He drew her closer to him, sliding his tongue into her mouth so that he could explore the hollows and secret caverns that he'd gotten to know so well four long years before ...

It was over an hour later when, shifted to her bedroom, they fell into a deep sleep, Hermione safely cuddled into Sirius's arms. Before he drifted into his dreams, he stared at her for a long moment, a strange sadness stealing over him as he faced the possibility that he may never get to hold her like this again. How had he stayed away for three years? What inhuman celibate-loving monster had possessed him?

He looked down at her and although the answer lay in his mind, suppressed because he couldn't bear the guilt right then, he wondered where they had gone wrong.

  
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A/N: I am so grateful to all the reviewers who have done so so far! This story is really coming along (thanks to all of you), and I hope you're all enjoying it as much as I like writing it. Please keep letting me know, and I'll update the story ASAP.   
  
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	8. Deja Vu

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Eight: Deja Vu   
  
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It was about five o' clock when Hermione, opening her eyes as she lay curled up into the warmth of her bed and blankets, saw Sirius walking into the room. She guessed by the fact that she was feeling cooler already that he'd been gone for a while, and she silently surveyed him as he came towards the bed. He was wearing his jeans, but no shirt, and she swallowed as she looked at him, wishing he could be just a little less attractive.

"Hey," He murmured huskily, sitting down on the side of the bed and smiling devastatingly down at her, "I was hoping I'd find you all sweet and drowsy when I came back ..."

He leaned down to kiss her, and she automatically responded, trying to quell the involuntary surge of need and desire that shot through her. Hell, but she'd missed him. _No, 'Mione, don't cry again ..._ She warned herself angrily as that very thing threatened, _Haven't you shed enough tears over all this? Over him?_ But she couldn't deny that it hurt, and she was so sick and tired of hurting.

"Sirius ..." She pulled away slightly, biting her lip, "I - I can't."

His expression darkened, and for a moment, as the front of his short hair fell into his eyes, he looked so young and vulnerable that she wished she could forget everything in her past. But then, he pushed his hair back and straightened up, looking at her with a expressionless mask on his face. He didn't look surprised, she realized, which meant he must have seen this coming.

"I know," he nodded, his voice toneless. "I understand."

"But - "

Before she could finish, he just shook his head slightly, that forbidding darkness descending over his features. He stood up, turned around and finding his shirt thrown across the back of a chair, pulled it on without buttoning it. As he did, Hermione saw a piece of parchment flutter out of the breast pocket and fall to the floor, but Sirius was in such a hurry to go that he clearly didn't notice, because he merely left the room in silence. And Hermione stayed still, leaning against the headboard with the bedclothes pulled up to her neck. A few minutes might have passed - or maybe just seconds, because they felt like eternity - and there was a soft knock on her door.

She looked up again, and saw Harry and Remus standing there.

Because of the concern lacing their expressions, she forced a smile. "Hi," She managed. "Who won the match?"

"Gryffindor, of course, you should have seen the look on Snape's face," Remus gave her a grin that was oddly reassuring, "Would you like some Butterbeer, Hermione? I wouldn't mind a bottle, so I'll get some," He shot Harry a look and departed, and Hermione guessed he'd gone after Sirius as well as to get the Butterbeer. Harry came over to the bed and sat down next to her.

Hermione looked at him. "I suppose you saw him come out."

"We saw him," Harry admitted, "He looked like hell. Walked out onto the balcony and slammed the door. Tonks and I both considered talking to him, but didn't want to be hexed, so Sean wandered out instead. Figure a child has the best chance of lightening someone's mood. Remus will join them now, I'm guessing."

"Where's Ron?" She asked, trying to distract herself from the thoughts. She did _not_ want to cry.

Harry chuckled. "The Minister of Magic gave him some work to finish up when we checked in after the match. I cried off because of my mission early this morning, but Ron couldn't manage it, so he had to go on. He'll be here soon. Oh, and we're having another meeting on the 19th, here, at seven. This seems to have become the new official Headquarters."

"Better than Grimmauld Place."

"That's true." Harry shrugged, "And better for Sirius, thankfully."

Hermione murmured something unintelligible under her breath, feeling like something was squeezing the breath and life right out of her. Apart from everythung else, there was still the shadow of Sirius's guilt? How were they supposed to prove his innocence? Was he supposed to play the role of a dead man forever?

_But doesn't he deserve it?_

She tried to tell herself so, but unfortunately, couldn't claim that the intonation inside her head really worked very well.

"'Mione," Harry ventured, paused, and then said, with a hopeful look that cut right to Hermione's heart, "I - er, well, it's probably none of my business and you can tell me so, but I suppose you couldn't bring yourself to - ?"

"Harry," She said softly, "You know I can't."

"I can't help hoping, though. I mean - I can't think of anything better - you and him. And you were both so happy back then, together, and I know how happy you are seeing him alive." He hesitated again. "I - I think he loves you, 'Mione," He muttered tentatively.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, but a small tear trickled out traitorously anyway. If Harry had noticed it, he didn't bring it up, but the compassion in his eyes was enough to tell he he'd witnessed that first sign of a breakdown.

She shook her head, forcing her emotions to steady themselves. "No, Harry, he doesn't. Think about Ron and Luna - are Sirius and I anything like that? He cares about me, sure, like he cares about Ron, Tonks, Dumbledore, maybe even like he cares about you and Remus. But as for just me - well, the fact remains that he just wants me."

"I know this hurts, but I don't believe that's all it is, but what do I know? I'm sorry," Harry croaked sympathetically, reaching out. That did it for Hermione's control, that compassionate brotherly touch around her. She crumbled into Harry's hold, ignoring the inner voice inside her that warned her against crumpling again, and broke down onto his shoulder, sobbing all her grief and pain and fear out until she was utterly drained and there were no tears left inside her.

At least, for now.

"Come on," Harry said gently at last, kissing her awkwardly on the top of her head, "Let's go see what the plans are for dinner."

Because there were important things to discuss and there would be a few more people at dinner that night, Hermione, Harry and Tonks watched TV with Sean (Ron, Sirius and Remus firmly declared they wanted nothing to do with 'that ridiculous box') as he ate his dinner, and waited until he'd fallen asleep before Hermione carried him into his room. When she came out again, Tonks was seeking out plates and forks with immense gusto, sending plates flying haphazardly so that Ron was repeatedly ducking reproachfully.

However, this was nothing to Fred and George, who resumed they habits of chaos as soon as they arrived. It was nearly ten o' clock by the time they all sat down at the living room, using the coffee table to put their plates on. Hermione glanced around. She was sitting in an armchair, and George was draped over its arm. The others there were Harry, Ron, Sirius, Remus, Fred, Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody.

"Bad idea," Moody was grumbling irritably, jabbing at his food, "To meet here like this - in a penthouse, of all things! We're providing evidence, I tell you, to any member of evil wandering about searching for the Order of the Phoenix and the Chosen One - "

"Oh lighten up, Moody, if you smile and enjoy yourself a bit, no member of evil will recognize you!"

"Very funny, Sirius."

"If you ask me," George cut in with dulcet tones, "I'd personally say we're all rather safe actually. If, by some pessimistic chance, the new Dark Lord were to burst in here anytime now, he'd be so excited that he wouldn't know which one of us to curse first."

In spite of herself, Hermione laughed, and she wasn't the only one. This continued for the while, until finally, Remus will his usual mild authority, said, "I think we'd better get down to the actual issue at hand here," He said gently, having finished his food and levitating his plate over into the kitchen, "Fred and Tonks have some rather unnerving news, I'm afraid."

Harry and Hermione exchanged anxious looks, but said nothing, only looked at the two expectantly. Ron piped up with, "Let's hear it," He said, beaming at his brother and Tonks eagerly.

They glanced at each other, and Fred motioned for Tonks to begin the tale. She gave them an engaging grin, and said, "Well, after Dumbledore mentioned what Hermione brought up yesterday, I thought it would be a good idea for us to scope out the underworld bars and see what we could gather from those circles. I disguised myself as a warlock, took Fred along because he's so darn charming - " (Everyone laughed) " - And we went down there."

"Needless to say, with some persuasion," Fred continued dryly, "Our evil friends were very forthcoming. For one particularly nasty-looking fellow, I had to buy him six Firewhiskeys before he was drunk enough to answer my oh-so-casual questions."

Tonks shot Fred a dirty look. "Fred, of course, couldn't resist sparking a little entertainment, so when I accidentally tripped and spilled my drink, he started up a proper brawl. If I hadn't been an Auror, I'd have been beaten to a pulp with hexes and jinxes and flying fists, I'll tell you that! And in the meantime, no one bloody noticed our pal here stuffing magical alcohol down that nasty chap's throat."

"Get to the point," Moody requested testily.

"All right, Moody, don't get your underwear knotted," Fred said sweetly, "As it happens, you're all aware of how excellent I am at causing distraction, and it was a truly marvellous scene - you'd have been proud, Sirius - and Tonks, no matter how dirtily she might look at me now, rose nobly to the occasion. So there I was, having a slurred conversation with the drunken man." He paused for dramatic effect.

George rolled his eyes, grinning, "Really, Fred, didn't I ever teach you anything about the _right_ moments for those suspenseful paused?"

"Well?" Sirius asked Fred, his brow furrowing slightly. "What did he tell you?"

Fred cleared his throat, "I tried to get names out of him, but unfortunately, he was a little too tight-lipped for that. However, what I did manage to get was fairly valuable." His expression actually sobered for a moment, which made Hermione unnervingly aware of the fact that this had to be very serious indeed. "Apparently, they've been talking a lot in the evil circles, and he's been hearing things about the New Lord - as they call him - plotting some schemes to secure his power."

"And what are these schemes, could you find out?" Hermione asked.

Remus looked at her, and said, "Well, Fred? Tell them."

"Er - yeah," For the first time, Fred looked hesitant about it. "Well, the Sphere of Pagnon is definitely going to be put into use at midnight on the 31st - of that we can now be absolutely sure - but well - er - the 'New Lord' also seems to know that there might be a small hitch in his plan."

Moody looked like he might explode from the long-winded, mysterious way Fred was spilling the story. Harry, however, frowned at Fred and said, "Meaning what, Fred?"

"Meaning - " Fred broke off abruptly, and said, "Remus - maybe you should - er - close Sean's room door."

Remus nodded, and did so without question. Hermione's heart thumped suddenly.

"Meaning," Fred continued, shifting awkwardly. Ron and George both looked at each other with suddenly worried expressions. It seemed that they knew Fred's reactions far too well, and what they were seeing was not comforting. "Well - basically - meaning that the New Lord - whoever he damn well is - knows about the Chosen One who can destroy his precious Sphere, and knows - knows - well - who is it."

"WHAT?" Sirius thundered. "How?"

A few people were shooting looks at Hermione, who sat stock still, her heart freezing over.

Fred hesitated, seeing the black look in Sirius's eyes.

"Spit it out, Fred," Harry and Ron both said together. Tonks shuffled her feet and stared at the floor, then at Hermione and then at Remus, who sighed, and finally back at Fred.

Fred gave it up, and said heavily, "Well, apparently Dung and Elphias Dodge went to the Hog's Head a couple of days ago, and Dung made the rather - uh - foolish mistake of bringing up the topic of the Chosen One in there. According to our drunken friend, and Elphias, who I asked, he said something along the lines of 'only three years old, the poor kid - and damned pity for his mother - always a sweet girl, that Hermione'."

  


*

  


There was dead silence in the room. Hermione felt like her ears were buzzing and tried to distract herself from the reality by observing how purple Moody's face was going.

"And well," Tonks shrugged helplessly, reaching out and squeezing Hermione's numb, cold hand, "We all know that any New Lord would have done his research, and would know exactly who the sweet girl Hermione was, and exactly who her son is."

"I'LL KILL HIM!" Moody roared. "HASN'T THE BLOODY THIEF LEARNED ANYTHING IN HIS YEARS WITH US?! WHAT WAS HE _THINKING_ - OF ALL THE MORONS IN THE WORLD - DOES HE EVEN REALIZE THE BLOODY _DANGER_ HE'S PUT US - AND THE KID - INTO?"

"You comfort us all, as always, Moody," George said sarcastically. "Are you sure you don't want to express a dash of gloom and doom in there?"

"I'M THINKING ABOUT BLOODY REALITY! I'LL KILL HIM!" Moody bellowed, and then stopped abruptly as his magical eye swivelled onto Hermione. He added gruffly, "I'm sorry. None of us wanted your son to be found out. I know it must frighten you."

"I'm fine." She said automatically. That was how it had always been, and how it had to be. Hermione was always fine.

Remus looked down at her from where he and Sirius were leaning against the window. Sirius's jaw was clenching and unclencing, his eyes burning dangerously black with suppressed rage, and Remus's eyes were full of only sympathy. "The New Lord will not find Sean," he said firmly, "No one but the Ministry's highest officials and Order members know where Harry and Ron live, and no one will guess Hermione and Sean are here. At least, not for a while."

"But like with us, time is also running out for him, Remus," Tonks pointed out miserably, "He's going to do anything at all in his power to discover the location of the little boy. And you know how effective evil can be when they want information."

Hermione's stomach turned over, and she felt sick, but she kept her expression carefully blank of any emotion. She didn't think anyone was deceived, however.

"Well," Moody growled, business-like and gruff at once, "It comes down to protection now, doesn't it? Hermione and the boy have to be protected, and that's that. Dumbledore's already thinking of ways to do it, so let's also get down to it."

There was a moment's pause, and then Fred said, "How about setting traps all around the apartment - you know, Weasley Wizard Wheezes traps - like the fireworks and all that jazz?"

"ARE YOU MAD?" Moody hollered furiously at him, making Ron, who was sitting next to him, jump and wince painfully. "FIREWORKS?! THIS IS NOT CHILD'S PLAY, BOY! DO YOU REALIZE WE'RE DEALING WITH ANOTHER YOU-KNOW-WHO HERE?"

George looked defensive. "It was only an idea." He said indignantly. "You said you wanted ideas."

"Well," Remus interjected hastily, "How - how about the Fidelius Charm?" He asked, hesitating slightly. "We could put Hermione and Sean under the Fidelius Charm and put the information inside one Secret-Keeper - like we did with Grimmauld Place ... and with Lily and James."

"Yeah well, look how that turned out," Ron said bitterly.

Everyone looked at him. "No one would betray them this time, Ron," Remus said quietly. "And there's no vindictive house-elf here to betray us either."

"Yeah?" Ron asked aggressively, "And how do we know that no one would betray any of us? What if it slips, like Dung? What if, what if, what if?" As everyone stared, shocked, at him, he sighed heavily, looking suddenly tired and a little sheepish. "I'm sorry. It's just that you and Sirius, Remus, lost your best friend to the Fidelius Charm - and we nearly lost Sirius for good once, to the inadequacy of the Fidelius Charm. I'm not going to lose one of my best friends to it as well."

There was a long moment of silence. Hermione, rather detached and frightened, could almost feel them all thinking Ron's words over, and finally Moody growled, "All right - throw the Fidelius Charm out of the window, for now, at least. Any other ideas?"

"Well, when I was in danger during my fifth year, I had a guard," Harry pointed out, "We could have a guard for Sean and Hermione. Choose people who are utterly reliable, which means Dung is not included, and keep someone on watch around the place at all times - "

" - And a couple of people to be with them anywhere they go - " Sirius added.

" - Make sure neither of them are ever left alone - "

" - Maybe they shouldn't be left alone together either, because who knows what might happen - "

" - And we don't know what Hermione might sacrifice to keep Sean safe, which means leaving them alone together would probably not be a good idea - "

" - But most important, I think, is to make sure neither of them are ever alone - "

"There have to be standbys too," Moody added gruffly, "Because we never know how many friends the New Lord may have helping him. There has to be a guard of more than one or two people at all times over the next sixteen days, and there'll have to be people always standing as backup to take over if someone dies or is killed."

"Killed?" Fred raised his eyebrows.

"And don't forget, if anything happens to Hermione, Harry and Sirius should probably stand by to take over full responsibility for Sean's safety - "

"I still think the most important thing is just making sure they're never left alone - " 

Suddenly, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. They were talking about it like she wasn't even here, like she was on her deathbed or something. They planning what they were going to do in the event of someone's death - _her_ death - and making all kinds of protection ideas, like she and Sean were about to be attacked the very next moment.

"Really?" She said, with slight contempt in her voice, and everyone looked at her, startled at her sudden resurface into the conversation, "So I suppose these plans mean that Ginny and Tonks and Mrs. Weasley will have to stand in the bathroom with their wands out while I'm taking a shower, does it?"

Ron sniggered, and was glared at by several people.

"Hermione, be reasonable here," Sirius said, "We're only trying to keep you and Sean safe from the hands of someone who is remarkably like Voldemort."

"Are you? And I suppose I'm an unreliable guard for my own son, seeing as none of you think it's safe to leave Sean and me alone together for long?"

"That's not what we said," Sirius said sharply.

Harry sighed. "'Mione, that was as an extra precaution. Of course we think you're perfectly capable of protecting Sean on your own. All mothers are. But the fact remains that someone as desperate as the New Lord will do anything to get to Sean, even if it means killing you, and we just don't want you to give yourself up in order to protect your son, because we all know that's what you'd do - "

"My God!" Hermione shrieked, springing up and staring at them all in disbelief. "You're all suffering from severe _deja vu_! Maybe I would be willing to give myself up in order to save my son's life, but what in hell makes you think I'm going to go down without a fight? None of you seem to remember that I'm a fairly powerful witch - that I've fought in a full-fledged battle before, that I could take on six Death Eaters on my own if I had to!"

"Hermione - " Remus pleaded soothingly, while the others stared at her, stricken.

She took a step back. "No," She was trembling now, trembling with anger and fear and sadness, her voice shaky and bordering on soft hysteria,"You're not seeing me and Sean right now, don't you understand? You're all expecting the New Lord to burst in here while Sean and I are alone, and you're expecting me to scream 'No, not Sean! Not Sean! Take me instead!' and you're all expecting me to crumple silently under an _Avada Kedavra_ curse, before the New Lord walks up to Sean." She paused for breath, tears blurring her vision, her breathing coming out in gasps. "But this isn't the past, damn it!" She whispered, her voice choked. "What makes you think it's going to happen again? Sean is not Harry. I'm not Lily. I'm - not - Lily."

Everyone stared at her, and she saw Tonks' lower lip trembling. Then Harry said quietly, "I - I didn't realize I was thinking about my mother - but you're right - of course you're right. I - I'm sorry."

Without a word, Hermione walked over to the table, where Sirius's photo album lay, and she opened it to a certain page before turning around and walking back to them. "Look," she said sharply, sounding considerably calmer and considerably more tired, "I suppose you remember, Remus, who Scarlett Fetcherly was in Hogwarts. And I'm sure Sirius told the rest of you about him and Scarlett, and why she would want him to be framed. Well, I don't think that's enough. Maybe she did want to scar Sirius's name, but think about the fact that she waited three years to do it. Why?"

"Maybe - " Fred began, and then broke off as he realized there really wasn't a maybe in his mind.

Sirius stared at Hermione as if trying to see what was going on in her head. Remus, however, shook his head in marvel. "Of course you're right ... why would she wait three years? There's a whole lot more to this than we first thought, isn't there?"

"So why did she wait?" Harry asked Hermione curiously.

Hermione sighed. "Dumbledore tracked her down as an eyewitness, remember? But only because someone told him that they had seen her on the scene of the crime, standing by the alley, looking in. When Dumbledore tracked her down, she realized she would be brought in for questioning and concocted the story that it was Sirius she was watching with Aberforth. But in reality, I believe it was _someone else_ she saw."

"And she was protecting that someone?" Tonks asked eagerly.

"Women," Moody muttered irritably. "Liars, all of them."

Sirius ignored this, and said to Hermione, "Looks like it's time to talk to Scarlett again. Someone should go and bring her here, maybe."

"Check with Dumbledore first," Remus warned, "We can't take action without his permission."

"I'll go," Moody grumbled, standing up, his wooden leg knocking against the ground. "I'll go to Hogwarts, talk to old Dumbledore, and bring our dear friend Scarlett Fetcherly back here. Where is she anyway?"

"Ginny's apartment," Ron told Moody, "Dumbledore thought Scarlett might be in danger as a witness, for speaking out about a murderer and his plans with the Sphere, so he left her with Ginny so that she could stay in London and still be safe. Bill's staying there too as protection. Protection," he snorted irritably. "The liar."

Moody grunted and Disapparated.

The others looked around, and began discussing the possibilities, speculating over what Scarlett might say when she was brought here and confronted not only with Sirius's life, but with the accusation. This conversation went on for a good ten minutes, and Hermione stood fairly silently, holding the photo album absently in her arms, thinking hard and trying to forget about the danger Sean was in.

Hermione was standing near Sirius and Remus, and Sirius turned to her. "Thanks," He said quietly, "For believing me."

"Yeah, well." She murmured, unable to look at him. "I know you're not a murderer."

"But you don't know I'm not a liar," He said with some wry sadness.

She shrugged. "I don't know much anymore, Sirius."

Remus, who was looking out of the window in an attempt to give them some privacy, shifted sadly, and Hermione knew that he couldn't help overhearing them. Sirius looked like he was going to say something more, but with a loud _Crack!_, everyone's attention was reverted to the spot where Mad-Eye Moody reappeared. He was huffing breathlessly, his face was livid, and his magical eye was rolling madly.

"What happened?" Sirius demanded. "Didn't Dumbledore give you the okay?"

"Sure he did," Moody growled angrily, "And I went right to that bloody apartment. Your sister Ginny was asleep, but Bill was there and he went into the guest room to find Scarlett and came out again, and wouldn't you know it! The wench is gone! Disappeared, with all her things! The Ministry will think she was kidnapped - by God knows who, since they think you're dead, but we know better. She fled!"

Sirius swore. The others, except for Remus and Hermione, uttered long strings of unintelligible curses, and only refrained when Hermione said quietly, "I thought so."

"THOUGHT SO?" Moody roared, appalled. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN - YOU THOUGHT SO? IF YOU KNEW SHE'D BE GONE, WHY IN HELL DID YOU MAKE BE DO A RIGHT DANCE ALL OVER TO THAT PLACE?"

Despite the situation, Hermione smiled. "I only meant, Moody, that I though Scarlett had more to do with this than anyone suspected. I don't think she was standing in the alley entrance as an eyewitness. I think she was a lookout. I believe Scarlett Fetcherly was - and is - the New Lord's closest accomplice."

"WHAT?!" The chorus came from Moody, Ron, Fred, George and Tonks.

Harry shook his head grimly. "I should have known. She looked too damned malicious, and clever, to be an innocent passer-by. Hell, but Hermione, how did you figure this out? Brilliant!"

"Yeah," The others seemed to agree, and Hermione felt faintly embarrassed but the situation was far too serious for her to feel overly modest. She shrugged, explained why she'd thought Scarlett too clever to have been there by accident, adding to that the fact that she framed Sirius obvoously to protect someone else. She looked across at Sirius, and saw dawning comprehension in his eyes as he looked from the photo album to her expression.

Remus looked at Hermione with something like pride in his eyes, and he smiled, "I have to admit, Hermione, we'd be quite lost without you. Now the problem remains: who is this New Lord?"

"I think Hermione has an idea about that too," Sirius said.

Everyone stared at her. Hermione opened the photo album again and turned to the right page, before dropping the book onto the coffee table. "Look," she said, pointing at Scarlett Fetcherly and the boy she was with. "The green-haired boy, Donny Tyler. Sirius told me Scarlett eventually found love with him, and my guess is that they're probably secretly married. I suspect he might be the New Lord."

"Hell!" Sirius suddenly said, "Remus, remember him? He was a Slytherin, the only Slytherin to date a Ravenclaw - Scarlett. He was always obsessed with the Dark Arts and was so awfully morbid."

Remus nodded. "I remember," He said slowly. "Merlin's beard, it looks like we've quite probably found out New Lord. Now our only problem is finding him, which will pose a difficulty, especially as Scarlett has disappeared. But maybe she let something slip to either Ginny or Bill while she was there, and we could ask them."

"We'll go ask them," Fred and George volunteered, "We know how to jerk people's memories."

Grinning, they Disapparated.

"Looks like we're going to be hunting down Donny Tyler now," Tonks said cheerfully, "Maybe I could disguise myself as him and check out the reactions of the underworld. Maybe someone will gasp and say something like, 'Lord Tyler, sir, I thought you were hiding out in the Scottish moors!'."

Moody snorted. "Fat chance, Tonks."

"We could find the Slytherins of that batch, Padfoot," Remus said to Sirius, "And see whether any of them are involved, or know anything about Donny Tyler and Scarlett Fetcherly at the moment. I'm sure that if Dumbledore accompanied us, none of them would have the nerve to lie."

"That's an idea," Hermione agreed. "Tonks and Ron, because of their jobs, could use the Ministry resources secretly and see whether they can track down anything, and Tonks could also certainly try disguising herself and scoping out some dicey areas."

"What about me?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "You and I, Harry, will need to train Sean to develop his magical skills." She said quietly. "Besides, I think you'll have to play the - er - _guard_ too. Isn't that right, Moody?"

"First things first," Sirius said, "You and Sean will have to be protected, no question about that. Harry and Moody can do it when Remus, Ron and I aren't here. But I think right now, we need to let the leader of the Order of the Phoenix in on our latest developments."

Moody scowled at them all, as they all turned to look at him expectantly. "I am NOT making another trip to Dumbledore." He declared grouchily.

"Oh go on, Mad-Eye," Tonks gave him a shove. "You know you love being the important bearer of news."

With a growl and a glare and the female Auror, Moody Disapparated again.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, when he stopped suddenly. It took Hermione only a second to realize why he hadn't spoken, and soon, everyone was staring at a bedroom door. A low, very dull (almost muted) crash came from one of the bedrooms.

"Remus ..." Hermione said, a pang of fear shooting through her. Mother's instinct perhaps, but inside, something was screaming. "You closed Sean's bedroom door, didn't you? Did you also happen to put an Imperturbable Charm on it?"

Remus shook his head, worried gray eyes turning to her. "No - but Moody did. He didn't want Sean hearing our conversation, for good reason."

"That also means," Hermione whispered slowly, "That we wouldn't have heard Sean if he'd cried out for us."

In a flash of movement, both Sirius and Harry bolted for Sean's bedroom door. Hermione had moved first, but Remus and Tonks grabbed her around her waist and shoulders and held her back. She struggled, panic flooding through her, but their grips didn't loosen. Ron joined Sirius and Harry in trying to unlock and break open a locked door, and finally, Sirius, with a sudden burst of strength, smashed the door down.

Hermione's struggles subsided into limpness, and Remus and Tonks were suddenly holding onto her to keep her from falling to the floor. Slowly, Ron sank to the floor outside Sean's room, leaning against the wall and staring at them with shaken eyes. Harry emerged from Sean's room while Sirius stood in the doorway, staring inside at the obvious wreck as if Stunned.

"Harry?" Remus asked quietly, as Tonks' arms tightened around Hermione.

Harry swallowed: "He's gone."

  
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A/N: The tension is clearly building up, with the 31st of December approaching, Scarlett Fetcherly missing, and now Sean ... it's so much fun writing this! Please keep reviewing, and letting me know!   
  
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	9. New Year's Eve

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize. The poem used in the story is mine too.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Nine: New Year's Eve   
  
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"Hey, Moony, how've you been? How is she?" Sirius asked as he Apparated into the penthouse, and looked at Remus, who was sitting on the couch, his hands steepled and resting under his chin. The werewolf's expression was grave, and worried, like it had been so often in recent days.

It was New Year's Eve.

The 31st of December.

Remus looked up at Sirius. "That's a loaded question." He said quietly. Sirius had been trying to track down Donny Tyler with a vengeance for sixteen days - ever since Sean had been taken. "She's locked herself into Sean's room. She doesn't sleep, only eats because Harry and Ron wrestle the food into her mouth, and talks to anyone only if they ask her something about a spell or potion - nothing personal at all."

"Merlin's beard." Sirius cursed. "And there's nothing anyone can do?"

"Nothing at all. Sometimes, she's talked to me, but once or twice she crumpled and sobbed into my shoulder, and it broke my heart, I'll tell you that, Sirius. I've also knocked on the door and opened it a little, and she'll be in there, trying chin-ups on the curtain bars, and practicing spells and curses. Sometimes, she trains for battle ... and since we have a little over twelve hours left to stop Tyler, you have to admit it's a smart idea."

Sirius exhaled heavily. "I can't handle seeing her like this, Remus," He said miserably, "She understands that we're all grieving for Sean too, but she's just so - so broken. I've never seen a mother who's lost a child before, and it hurts to watch. It hurts just knowing he's gone too."

"It's like you all over again." Remus said softly.

Sirius looked at him, not having heard properly. "What was that?"

"I said it's like you all over again, Sirius. When you - when she thought you were dead, she was worse. She didn't eat at all, and it was only because she - _had_ to in the end that we managed to force her into eating. But it was worse. And I don't want to see her sink into that again."

"Don't lay any more guilt on me, Remus."

"I never meant to." Remus squeezed Sirius's shoulder. "Any news about Tyler?"

"Nothing so far. Thirteen damned hours left ..."

"Why don't you go see her?"

"She doesn't want to see me, Remus."

Remus smiled. "Just go to the door, Sirius, that's all. If she needs you, at least you'll be there."

"All right." Sirius swallowed, giving in to the temptation and walked slowly to the door of Sean's bedroom. He stopped at the door, which was open only a crack, staring at the baby blue-colored doorframe, enchanted by Ron, and through the crack, he could see the toy broomstick, the teddy bear - his teddy bear, the nursery, blue-and-white decorated walls with the Winnie-Pooh (or something like that, Harry had told him) carpet.

His throat clogged with unshed tears. Sean had had a way with people, where even if you'd known him for two minutes, you loved the little kid. Sirius had certainly fallen prey to the infectious laughter, mischief and devotion of Hermione's son, and to think that he had been taken and killed - 

Blinking sharply, his jaw clenching, he pushed open the door slightly, and stopped, looking inside. Hermione was standing in the middle of the room, holding a framed photograph in her hands. Her hair, normally bouncy, was pulled back into a ponytail that only emphasized the fragility of the delicate bones in her pale face, her eyes haloed by dark circles and thick puffy redness.

He instinctively knew what photograph she was looking at. It was a Muggle picture, one that Sean had always had on his bedside table, of him in his mother's arms as a little two-year-old, grinning at the camera while his mother laughed at something the holder of the camera was saying. Probably Sean's father, Sirius thought bitterly.

Hermione's shoulders sagged slightly, and Sirius watched as the photograph slipped from her grasp and fell to the carpet with a thunk. Slowly, she sank to her knees and doubled over. Sirius felt like everything inside him was being torn apart by vicious fangs as he watched her cry, her tears and sobs those of a broken heart.

He couldn't take it anymore.

With one movement, he went into the room and dropped down beside her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly as she wept bitterly into his chest. He felt her tears soak the front of his shirt, and as he felt her grief, his eyes blurred over with his own bitterness and sorrow and anger, and he wondered if she could feel his own heart breaking - all over again.

"Shhh," He mumbled thickly, kissing her head, "It's okay ..."

A stupid thing to say, he thought angrily. It wasn't okay. How would it ever be okay? How did a mother - or even a father - get over the loss of their child? Even all Sean's various 'aunts' and 'uncles' were in a state of utter devastation - he could see it in Harry's bursts of anger, Ron's listlessness, Fred and George's lack of joking, Tonks' irritability, McGonagall's sudden sharpness, Dumbledore's dull blue eyes, Remus's occasional silent tears ... they were all devastated for Sean, and for Hermione. 

Hermione lifted her head slightly and turned wet eyelashes and stricken brown eyes to meet his. "He's gone, Sirius," she whispered brokenly, "He - they - killed him. Sean ... they killed him, and I didn't even get a chance to help him, to say goodbye ... they killed him!"

"You don't know that," He mumbled.

Her eyes flashed. "Sean was a danger to Tyler, and had to be gotten out of the way! What else would Donny Tyler have done with Sean - adopted him? You know as well as I do that he killed him - that Sean - that Sean - is - is - dead ..."

Sirius swallowed the painful lump in his throat, and Hermione felt the movement against the side of her head. She looked up at him again, forgetting her own pain for a moment. He was hurting too ... they all were. She slowly sank against the end of Sean's bed, looking at Sirius as he stared back at her.

"I need to change," He said abruptly, and she saw that muscle throb in his jaw, a sure sign of suppressed emotion. "I showered at the Burrow, but I was out all this time, and lost some of my clothes in a bloody duel. This shirt is filthy."

She nodded to the white tee shirt with amusing black lettering, which was draped over the windowseat. "There's a shirt there," She pointed out quietly, wiping the remnants of salt and tears off her cheeks. Sirius glanced over, stood up, and went to the tee shirt. He pulled off his own, the muscles in his shoulder blades and back rippling strongly, and slipped the white shirt over his head.

"That's a nice-looking shirt," He commented as he looked at the rather oversized black tee shirt Hermione was wearing, at a loss for what else to say.

Hermione glanced down at the shirt she was wearing, and then looked up at him as he returned to the carpet and stood a few feet away, over her. "Well, it's yours." She said, as if that explained it all. And it did, she reasoned. She saw something flicker in his eyes at the knowledge that she was wearing his shirt.

He smirked slightly at that, and crouched down on knee beside the photograph Hermione had dropped. He swallowed again, that dreadful lump still there. "He was a good-looking kid," He added huskily, with perfect sincerity and honesty.

"Of course." A wry smile cracked Hermione's face. "He was yours too."

  
  


Sirius froze, unsure of whether or not he'd heard right.

He looked at Hermione in disbelief, and saw that she was watching him, as if seraching for a reaction. He stared at her, still unable to believe what he'd just heard. Surely he'd misunderstood ... his eyes fell on the photograph again, on the silky black hair, the warm black eyes, the rakish grin - _Dear God in heaven ..._

"Sean - Sean was mine?" He croaked. "_My_ son?"

She nodded simply.

Sirius couldn't quite grasp this. He had a son! The little boy he'd grown to love, the kid over whom he'd punched walls in sheer jealousy because she'd been with someone else, the Sean he'd lost ... was his son. He could have slapped himself ... if he did the math, of course Sean was his son! A boy of almost three!

"Dear God." He mumbled. Hermione looked at him. He was clearly in shock, but she'd seen his eyes light up, and she felt a spark of warmth at that, glad that at least, he would have been happy about being a dad ... although he wouldn't get a chance to now ... Suddenly, Sirius's expression darkened. "Are you telling me," He suddenly glowered at her, "That during the battle - when you were nearly killed by Voldemort in September - you were carrying a _baby_?"

Hermione failed to see the significance of this. "Well, yes - " She began.

"What the hell - ?" Sirius growled. "Hermione, are you crazy? Being pregnant made you extra vulnerable - you could have been _killed_ more easily - you were more at risk - you and Sean could have been killed! Merlin's beard, you crazy woman!"

"I beg your pardon," Hermione said with dignity, "But I was perfectly capable of doing battle. In fact, carrying a child as magical as Sean was - " Her voice cracked, " - Gave me extra protection. And we were both alive after the battle, weren't we?"

"So that was what Remus meant - by the fact that you only ate last time because you _had_ to," Sirius muttered, more to himself than to her, "And that explains the looks I kept getting whenever Sean's name was mentioned, and when I carried him ... and it all fits, of course - the son of a pureblood and Muggle-born, the child of two magical parents ... I suppose everyone else knew?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah."

"No wonder Dumbledore enjoyed that conversation about Sean's parents and the fact that they were both Gryffindors," Sirius sighed. He looked at Hermione, his eyes reflected some hurt. "Why - why didn't you tell me who his father was?"

She twisted her hands together. "I was scared," She said, "I was alone for so long, because we all thought you were dead, and when you came back - I thought you'd hate it to hear that you were a father. Besides, I was angry ... angry with you for what you did."

"Ah." Sirius said bitterly. "That certainly accounts for most of it. I left you behind, alone with a baby. No wonder you can't forgive me - what I did was - was unforgivable. But - but I've told you - I'm still telling you - you don't know how sorry I am for what I've done." His voice broke. "I made my mistakes, and I lied, but I came back and you had six weeks to tell me that I had a son. I wasn't the only one who played with deception, 'Mione."

She nodded. "No, I suppose you weren't." She said quietly. "But like you said, we both made our mistakes. I just never hurt you with mine."

"You think so?" Sirius asked softly. He shook his head and stood up again. "I have something to do. You probably want to be alone. I'll see you later - if we find out where Tyler is."

"Later." She murmured, looking down at her tucked knees as Sirius turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him, although she knew perfectly well that he'd been itching to slam it. He was hurt and angry, but so was she. It was hopeless, she knew, fresh pain clawing at her soul. She clambered to her feet, placing the framed photograph on the bed, and went over to the window, looking out at the busy London street sadly. She stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets.

That was when she realized there was something in her pocket. It crinkled as her fingers closed over it, and she drew out a piece of parchment with some writing on it. She recognized Sirius's handwriting at once, and remembered where the parchment had come from. It had fallen out of his shirt pocket that last afternoon they'd spent together on December 15th, and she'd picked it up, meaning to give it back to him, but had forgotten all about it in the light of following events. It had clearly resided in this pair of jeans since.

Now, she unfolded the parchment and realized Sirius had written something on it - a poem?

Since when did Sirius write, and what had he written?

She read through the words, and felt the all too familiar tearing of a heart inside her. When had he writted this? Why had he suddenly been overcome with the emotion that needed to be put down? The words were simple, but conveyed the deep emotion beneath the simplicity. There was guilt, great guilt in there, and regret and longing. And there was sadness ... terrible sadness ...

_ **U**nforgiven  
**N**estled deep beneath the smiles and eyes,  
**F**orged in a lifetime of pain and lies,  
**O**h - there exists a pool of blood;  
**R**ipping harshly as I drag through mud,  
**G**uilt running deeper and deeper with each sin,  
**I** will never forget; I'm drowning in  
**V**aults of loss and misery  
**A**ble to break me apart, and so you'll see;  
**B**ind me tighter into bloodstained claws,  
**L**ock into a prison of tears, for I am  
**E**ternally unforgivable. _

Hermione gulped noisily, as fresh tears formed in her eyes. She'd never believed Sirius was capable of such guilt and regret at what he'd done, capable of such pain and longing ... but he had. He felt it, and he knew that she hadn't been able to forgive him. But could she forgive him now? Had she already forgiven him, without even knowing it? Her mind reeled, a mess of emotion and thoughts and pain.

She had made her mistakes. And so had Sirius. Now, they just had to live with what they had both done, and not done. Once again, she reflected over how hopeless it all was, and the tears surged forth onto stained cheeks. Sean was gone now, and so was Sirius. They'd gone wrong ... and the deep truth was: she didn't know how to make it right again.

  


***

  


Ron burst into the room at seven o' clock that evening.

"Hermione!" He bellowed urgently, making her start violently as she stood still at the window, reminiscing, "'Mione, there you are! Come on, hurry!"

She allowed him to grab her wrist and tug her out of the room. "What's going on?"

"We found Tyler."

"What?" At once, her eyes snapped to life. "You found him? Where? How?"

Ron took her to the living room, where Harry was sprawled exhausted on the couch, Remus was conjuring Butterbeers, and Sirius was pacing restlessly with Tonks and Professor McGonagall looking on with a grimness that was all too familiar to Hermione, who'd been at the final battle with Voldemort.

"Hello, Hermione dear," Her voice gentled at once, "I suppose Ron told you the news?"

Hermione looked around. "What happened?"

"Professor Dumbledore, on an impulse, went to the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest to have a word with them about the forthcoming evils," McGonagall sniffed, as if this idea had been completely ridiculous to her, "Nonetheless, it seemed that the centaurs had something very interesting to tell him ... a magical shield had been cast around the Forbidden Plain, which is on the other side of the forest, a shield that was meant to draw energy."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're _joking_!" He stared. "Tyler chose the plains near _Hogwarts_ to access his power? Is he crazy?"

"Arrogance," Remus said dryly, "He assumed none of us would ever think of looking a little closer to home, and he was right, wasn't he? If Dumbledore hadn't tried the centaurs - anyway. Besides, what better place to draw the maximum amount of power and magic than from a near a place that is permanently brimming with enchantment. It was fairly ingenious."

"So what's the plan?" Sirius asked aggressively.

Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look. "The plan is for us all to _sit tight_, as youngsters these days like to say." (There were a few indignant groans all around) "Albus doesn't want anyone trying to exact revenge here, which will only cloud your judgment. The plan follows thus: Dumbledore will contact the Minister of Magic - Mr. Biggs - at ten o' clock tonight, giving him a vague clue about the proceedings and giving him ample opportunity to get to the plains with his Aurors and crew, which will include you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, and apprehend Donald Tyler and Scarlett Fetcherly - although the Minister won't know it until he gets there. Apparently, they don't have much of an army. There's just the two of them."

"How boring!" Tonks sighed.

"Yes, well ..." Professor McGonagall pursed her mouth, "That's how things stand. Until then, we are all to remain here. Professor Dumbledore has warned me not to allow any of you out of my sight until he says it is all right to do so."

No one liked this, and there was considerable annoyance and indignation around, but Professor McGonagall was a powerful, formidable witch and the kind no one liked to cross. But Hermione was bubbling with new anger, at Tyler, at Scarlett, at everyone involved in that mess. Her son was dead - and she was supposed to _sit tight_? Over her dead body.

"You're quite right, of course, Professor," she said in her perfected goody-two-shoes voice, "It wouldn't be wise for any of us to go off after them. Best to leave it to Professor Dumbledore."

"That's wonderful to hear, Hermione," Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly, but there was a twinkle in her eye that Hermione nearly missed. "I hope you've all heard that, and understand the situation. Now, for a game of wizard chess, I think."

Hermione murmured something tiredly about going back to Sean's room, and walked back dejectedly, rubbing her eyes. She snuck a look at Remus and Sirius, and saw them both watching her, and was certain that they were on to her. She couldn't bring herself to worry about that, and merely went back to Sean's room, closed the door softly behind her, picked up her wand, and Disapparated without a moment's hesitation.

For her, with the rage bubbling inside her, there was nothing to hesitate about ...

Sirius came to the door a few minutes later, his nerves on edge. He was itching to beat Tyler up to a pulp, to curse Scarlett into oblivion, to do anything to make his guilt ease about what he'd done, what he hadn't been able to do, for what had happened to his son ... but his worst fears were confirmed the instant he pushed open the door and took in the empty room.

"Damn it." He swore under his breath.

  


***

  


Hermione found herself at the far edge of the Forbidden Forest, with the plains stretching out in front of her. It was chilly, and goosebumps sprung up on her skin, but she barely noticed it. As she stood there, her wand gripped tightly in white knuckles, a drizzle began to fall. The moon was almost full, but not quite, glowing silver down upon the lands stretched before it.

In the hazy atmosphere, the rain sparkled like diamonds falling from the sky. The ground smoked silver and cast glistening shadows all around, pearly white like ghosts and drifting like ethereal beings that seemed somehow to be alive.

And there, far beyond the Forest, Hermione saw a tall oak tree, standing alone in the middle of the rolling plains, and she knew at once that that was where the Sphere would be mounted, in order to catch the full power of the star's alignment. She began to slip silently and eerily through the thick night, feeling the icy drops of metallic rain upon her skin and clothes, hearing the howls of lone jackals in the far distance ... knowing this was going to be the night that would decide her fate.

This time, she was angrier. Voldemort had taken many people she'd loved, but Tyler and Scarlett had tried to take one man away from her, and had stolen her child away. This time, it was her battle.

As she approached the tree, she dropped to her stomach and began to crawl low on the ground towards the two moving shapes by the oak tree. There was a ridge between one plain and the higher slope, and she crawled closer in the ridge, reaching a point where she was soaked and shivering in the rainfall. She didn't think to use a spell to make herself impervious to the water - her mind was elsewhere. She could hear low voices talking, and her blood began to heat up in fresh anger and grief.

"How long do we have to stand out here in the cold?" A woman's voice asked.

A man growled impatiently, "Until it's time. I'm not leaving this spot tonight, Scarlett, there's no way I'm going to risk being detained somewhere else by _anyone_."

"And what about _him_?"

"He's untouchable - for now. I won't make the same mistake _He_ did. Unlike the great one, I don't have the convenient timings he did. Just as long as that one's safely tied up where he is right now, we're safe. Don't worry about him."

"What if they find us before midnight, Donny?"

"They won't!" The man growled viciously. "Now keep your blasted voice down!"

Her blood pounding in her ears, her hand suddenly very steady as the wand came up, Hermione stood up slowly and walked up the slope onto the plain where Scarlett Fetcherly and Donny Tyler were standing. Both turned in horror as she approached, her walk slow but deliberate. They knew instantly who she was, and she was suddenly a very terrifying sight.

Her slender frame was silhouetted by the rainfall and moonlight, her damp hair shining and blowing wildly in the wind, her brown eyes burning with what was unmistakably rage. The phrase Harry had used, ironically, flashed through Tyler's mind ... _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn'd_ ... Taking her son from her, was that scorning a woman? It looked like it - 

Scarlett's eyes dilated in horror, much to Hermione's satisfaction. "Merlin, Donny!" She screamed. "You said they wouldn't find us!"

"And _they_ haven't, Scarlett," Tyler snarled, pulling out his wand, "Our distraught mother has foolishly let her emotions cloud her common sense and has come alone, it seems ... Well, Hermione? Do you really think I'm going to fall to my knees and beg for mercy?"

Hermione's mouth curved into a smile, "I was so hoping you wouldn't," She said dangerously.

"_Furnunculus!_" Tyler yelled.

Hermione nearly laughed at the immaturity of that hex, but spat out, "_Densaugeo!_", automatically. The rays of light hit each other in mid-air, as she remembered they did with Harry and Malfoy in their fourth year, and ricocheted off in different directions. Scarlett dived out of the way in time to avoid one spell - a pity, in Hermione's opinion.

"_Avada - _" Scarlett began screaming, but Hermione yelled "_Protego!_" before she could finish, at the same time that Tyler deflected her curse. He turned to her angrily, and said with venom, "Not yet, sweetheart, I'm going to cause our little friend here some more pain before we get rid of her."

This struck Hermione as funny, and she began to laugh, a kind of wild, hysterical laugh. "Hurt me? Cause me some more pain? I don't think you can do that!"

"No?" Tyler sneered.

Hermione pointed her wand at him, and began to put the full Body-Bind upon him when Scarlett screeched, "_Expelliarmus!_" and to her horror, the wand flew out of her hands and into the gloating witch's. Tyler began to laugh, and shaking his head, he circled around Hermione, like a vulture hunting down it's dead prey. With an evil grin, he said, "Try to imagine me doing this to your son ... _Crucio!_"

She fell to the ground as terrible waves of agony struck her, twisting her body, ripping her limps and muscles apart - it felt like - sending thumbscrews of pain and sharp stabs of clawing hurt through every rippling, screaming pore of her body. She wanted to scream, to sob, to beg for it to stop - but she didn't. She only lay there, writhing and shaking under the pain he was inflicting, her mind torturing her with images of Sean trying to fight this agony off ...

And abruptly ... it stopped.

Her body trembling like jelly, Hermione jerked herself up and off the ground, only to see Tyler flat on his back on the ground, yelling in anguish and agony as he was kicked, punched and beaten by a shadowed man who had hurled himself at him in a blind rage.

"_Sirius._" Scarlett spat out the name like a bitter oath, frozen in horror as she saw him.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

Tyler and Sirius broke apart, each leaping back with their wands dangerously pointed at the other. Tyler's nose and mouth were bleeding and he was hobbling slightly, clearly off worse from the scuffle. Sirius had a cut on his jaw, but his eyes were blazing and he didn't seem to realize anyone else was there right then.

"You tried to drag my name through mud, Tyler," He growled, "But I could forget that. But then you took my son away from his mother - away from me. And now, now you'd gone too far when you tried to hurt her. What makes you think I won't rip the life away from your writhing throat with my bare hands?"

Scarlett lunged at Sirius with a cry of rage, but Hermione was too quick for her. She threw herself between Sirius and Scarlett, pointed her wand at the older woman in a deadly fashion, making the other witch freeze in place, eyeing the wand with wary hatred.

"After all I went through to destroy him - " She spat in frustrated anguish.

Hermione snorted. "Yeah, that was your first mistake," She said coolly. Behind her, Sirius and Tyler were duelling furiously, each dodging blasts of green, red and purple light, each uttering the most dangerous and filthy curses ever known to wizardkind, and she was struck by a sudden horrifying mental image of Sirius laughing - and being struck squarely in the chest by a beam of red light ...

_No! It won't happen to him again!_

But her distraction as she looked over her shoulder at Sirius nearly cost her her life. Seizing the opportunity, Scarlett flung a curse that embodied a stab of pain at Hermione, and as the sharp prick like a knife hit her in the back and nearly made her fall over, she let out an involuntary cry and Sirius turned around sharply.

For one frozen moment, Hermione and Sirius both stood frozen, facing each other, staring into each other's stricken eyes ... for one moment, they realized just what they had done for each other, and then Hermione saw a flash of movement over Sirius's shoulder and through the roaring blood in her ears, saw Tyler mouth the beginnings of "_Avada Ke - _"

She threw herself at Sirius, knocking him down so that they were both flat on the ground. By the time the end of the curse - ("_ - Davra!_") - Sliced through the air, the curse was pointing at Scarlett, who had been standing right behind Hermione. Hermione felt the air ripple just inches over her head as she lay sprawled over Sirius.

Sirius and Hermione watched as Scarlett's eyes widened in frozen horror, and she crumpled to the ground, motionless.

"No!" Tyler yelled, his face paling terribly. "Scarlett! In the name of Merlin - SCARLETT!"

But of course, she didn't get up. Sirius climbed to his feet, helping Hermione up, the darkness in his eyes lifting slightly as he looked at Scarlett with something almost like pity, and Hermione knew he was thinking the same as she was: that after all her crimes, and all her cruelty, Scarlett Fetcherly had met her end in the way she deserved - at the hands of her lover.

Tyler's expression became murderous. "_You!_" He spat at them. "You'll suffer for this!"

He reached into his robes and pulled out a medium-sized globe of glowing, blinding light. Colors of neon gold, orange and pink beamed from the Sphere of Pagnon as he held it up to the sky menacingly.

"It will be mine ..." He declared hoarsely, his glowing face alight with a mad hunger and wildness that terrified Hermione and made her shrink back slightly. "You cannot touch me while I hold this weapon, even if the power has not been accessed yet ... it will kill you if you touch it for I am the ritual holder ... The power will be mine and I will make you suffer ... Mine ..."

And then, the most amazing thing happened.

A voice cut the thick, tense silence - 

"_Mommy!_"

Hermione thought she was hearing things, but Sirius too, had gone very white and his head, as had Tyler's, had snapped in the direction of the oak tree, where something was stirring in the shadows.

"S-Sean?" Hermione choked out.

Tyler twisted around, uttered "_Impedimenta!_", so that Sirius was thrust down to his knees, from where he tried, painfully, against the magic to get up. In the same movement, Tyler lunged towards the tree, screaming in rage, but Hermione had already moved. She raced towards the base of the tree, where her sharp eyes saw a little boy's form lying twisting on the ground, magical ropes binding him tightly, and before Tyler could scream _Avada Kedavra_ yet again, she had flung herself in front of the little boy and was staring defiantly into the face of the New Lord.

"Go on, Tyler," she whispered in a shaking, deadly voice, "If you want him, go through me."

Sirius, who had been kneeling, unable to move, a few yards away, heard her voice as if through a terrible haze, and his mind began to whirl with pain, with horror, with screams that this had happened before - _God, no ..._ He prayed, _It's you again, James! It's happening again, I've become you ... Sean - Sean is Harry, will he live, James, will he survive this like your son did? 'Mione ... can I live if she dies now? Is she going to end up like Lily? Is that how our story will end, James? Oh God, Prongs, save them ..._

"Lower the wand, Donald."

The cold, vibrating voice had the effect of instant reaction. Tyler uttered a yelp and a curse, and leaped back from Hermione and Sean, Hermione's head snapped up and her brown eyes widened in sudden hope, and Sirius slowly twisted around as best he could to stare in amazement.

James was dead, but he'd sent Dumbledore to them instead.

Dumbledore looked pale and angrier than ever before - even angrier than when Sirius had been 'killed', than when Voldemort had begun the final battle, than when the Death Eaters escaped Azkaban again ... his wand arm was shaking with suppressed power, and the sight of him, fearsome and radiating with awesome energy was crippling to Tyler.

"Damn you, Dumbledore!" He moaned, his wand shaking violently as he pointed it at the great wizard.

Dumbledore's voice gentled. "Lower the wand." He repeated. "Do it, if you know what's best for you." With a small smile, he released Sirius from the Impediment Jinx and Hermione gathered herself enough to remove the bonds from her son and he flung himself into her arms, clinging to his mother as if he would never let go.

"You'll kill me," Tyler whispered croakily.

Sirius growled, "You deserve to die."

But while Dumbledore persuaded with his intensity, and Sirius stood with a murderous wand ready, Hermione was holding Sean close in her arms and murmuring words into his ear. Before anyone could do anything more, Sean turned around, and his black eyes were burning with something so like his father's that it was impossible to believe anyone else could have created him.

"This is my job." He said in an oddly grown-up voice, to his mother's astonishment, and suddenly, with a rippling wave that shook the ground and sent an invisible ripple through the air, a burst of great white light flew from Sean's hands, straight at the Sphere of Pagnon. The wind picked up till it was almost a hurricane, and Dumbledore and Sean stood rooted magically, while Sirius leaped at Hermione and held her to the ground, and Tyler began to swirl, screaming, in a whirlpool of light emerging from the Sphere itself.

And then, the Sphere shattered, and with it, Tyler let out one last anguished shriek, before they saw his body blast apart into fragments.

The light faded into the misty night, and the wind dropped abruptly. There was a long silence, during which no one moved, and no one said anything, and then there was the sound of running footsteps, alerting them to the arrivals of Tonks, Harry and Ron.

"Professor!" Harry yelled, approaching fast, "The other Aurors, and Biggs, are on their way. Have you got - ?" He stopped abruptly, glaring at Hermione and Sirius, "You two - you could have been _killer_ - 'Mione, what were you thinking, taking off like - " He broke off again, his jaw falling open.

Ron and Tonks stared. "Sean?" They gasped.

"Why don't you three go and tell the Ministry that I have everything under control, and they had best return to the Ministry of Magic headquarters and await me there," Dumbledore said gently. "I have a feeling there's one last problem that hasn't been solved."

With brief hesitations, the three took off across the wet grass again, and Dumbledore turned to the three by the tree, his hair shining silver in the dew of the rain. "You do realize," He said gently, "That because Tyler's body is irreparable, and Scarlett's only looks suspicious, the Ministry will only suspect Sirius more than ever - especially now that they know he's alive. And no matter what story we may tell them, he'll be their killer. They won't believe us, not without proof."

"It's all right, Dumbledore." Sirius said quietly, "We can deal with that later."

Dumbledore's face suddenly broke into a smile, and he looked down at Sean, "I hope you know, young man," He said indulgently, "That you'll soon be the Boy Who Won. I will see all of you back at the penthouse, with further news." With that, and a wink at Sirius and Hermione, he Disapparated.

Hermione sank down onto the grass, against the tree, leaning into it for support. Her muscles were stinging and sore, her heart was bursting with different kinds of emotions, and her head was reeling from far too much in far too little time. Sean looked at her, and smiled, "We won, Mommy! Isn't it over? Isn't it?"

"Over ..." Hermione murmured, as if this was a concept she'd long forgotten.

Sirius knelt down on one knee near Sean, and looked at him. "We thought you were dead, kid." He said hoarsely, his eyes glistening ever so slightly. Sean turned around, cocked his head at him, and to their enormous surprise, began to laugh.

"He tried, but he couldn't kill me! It just bounced off!" He said with obvious pride. Then his voice softened, and he suddenly flung his arms around Sirius's neck and clung to him with almost as much attachment and need as he had his mother. His face half-buried in Sirius's neck, he said audibly, "I'm so glad you've finally come home, Daddy."

Hermione stiffened, and stared, tears filling her eyes. His own eyes darkening suddenly with the stunned emotion, Sirius's arms tightened around his son, and his deep, dark eyes met Hermione's over Sean's head. For a very long time, they both stared silently at each other while their son slowly drifted into a tired sleep, for the first time held safely in his father's arms.

  
**   
  
TBC.   
  
*   
  
A/N: A very long chapter, I think ... but it was worth it! Thank you so much for all the support and feedback! I'm really grateful for all the time my readers have taken to review, and I hope the story is coming out fast enough and meeting your expectations!!! It isn't over yet, but I'm sorry to say it's getting there :-(!!   
  
** --> 


	10. The Final Proof

  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize. The poem used in the story is mine too.   
  
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...   
  
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.   
  
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*   
  
**Stained Legacy**   
  
Chapter Ten: The Final Proof   
  
*   
  
**   
  


It was not to be expected that once the great threat was vanquished, everything would automatically right itself, and a cliched 'happily ever after' ending would take place. This held particular true, because the Minister of Magic arrived on the scene despite Dumbledore's instructions, and before he was whisked away by Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt, he saw that Sirius was alive and instantly leaped to the wrong conclusions.

Luckily, however, he assumed that Sirius would flee the country at once, and did not suspect he was still hiding out at Harry and Ron's penthouse. Unfortunately, this logic did not apply to Hermione and Sean, and it was on the second of January that a knock of foreboding came on the door of the apartment.

They had been having lunch and then Harry had left to complete some paperwork. For a little while, Fred and George hung around to argue with Ron, try to sell Remus some of their newest additions to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and finally left because Tonks threatened to stick her wand up their noses if they didn't accompany her to the Leaky Cauldron for a painful meeting right away.

Sirius, who had gone to see what had become of his wizard's robes (it had been so long since he'd worn them), emerged from his room, and asked, "Hey ... do any of you know whether Ginny said she'll be coming here today?"

"Uh - no, she said she couldn't make it today, but she said she was definitely going over to the Burrow for tea tomorrow," Ron informed the older man.

"Great! What time?"

Hermione gave Sirius a look, noticing with a slightly unpleasant turn of the stomach that he seemed positively excited about Ginny's visit. She saw Remus smile slightly, and turn towards the window, and Ron, oblivious as ever, said, "Dunno, Sirius, but I'm guessing it would be around three-thirty or four, because that's when Mum said to come over, and Ginny finishes work at the bookshop at three."

"Thanks, Ron."

"Why're you so eager to see Ginny?" Hermione wished fervently those words had come from anyone's lips but her own, but the fact that Sirius was looking at her confirmed her worst belief.

He shrugged, and opened his mouth to say something - 

"BANG!"

Sirius, Ron and Remus all jumped violently, and whirled around, looking for the cause of the disturbance. Hermione, who was well accustomed to these frequent western-cowboy-ambush style battles, turned with a smile to Sean. The little scamp had been crouching behind the couch, and had now leaped up and was pointing an oddly metallic looking object at his father.

Sirius stared. "What in hell is that thing?" He demanded curiously.

"It's a toy gun," Hermione explained shortly, "Muggles use it to protect themselves, but mainly to kill each other."

Ron snapped his fingers, and Remus said, "Ah ... wasn't that the object the Ministry told the Muggle world Sirius was carrying when they wanted him caught during your third year?"

"That's it."

"BANG!" Sean added helpfully, grinning.

Sirius laughed, and snatched Sean up off the ground playfully. "That's a nice feeling to have towards your own daddy," He snorted, "But I can assure you, scamp, it'll take more than a toy gun to kill me!"

A predictable wrestling match began at once, and quickly moved into Sean's room, where yells and laughter echoed. A bark informed the others that Sirius had trasnformed into dog form, a source of the greatest pride and entertainment to his son. Ron and Hermione were still out in the living room with Remus, and they all stiffened instantly when the tapping came at the door.

"I'll get it," offered Remus at once, standing up and moving over to the door. At the same time, Ron bounded up with surprising speed of thought, went to the door of Sean's room, murmured something to the two occupants, fetched Harry's Invisibility Cloak and tossed it in, and hurriedly shut the door.

Remus pulled open the door, and found Mr. Biggs standing there with two of his officials flanking him. "Hello, Mr. Lupin," He greeted the younger man cordially, "I suppose Harry and Ronald are here, are they? Well, well, tell them I said excellent work on the Fitzgerald mission - oh, no - don't bother calling them, I'm actually here only to deliver an official summons."

"A summons?" Remus frowned. "For what?"

"For Miss Hermione Granger," Biggs responded promptly, and Hermione, standing behind the half-open door, felt her heart plummet. "She is hereby summoned as a witness, and possibly an accomplice, to provide evidence in the matter of Sirius Black's murder of Aberforth Dumbledore and attempt at accessing powers unfit for wizarding kind, at a hearing scheduled for tomorrow at three P.M."

"I see." Remus's voice was hard as stone.

Biggs clearly sensed the younger man's sudden hostility, because he sighed and said regretfully, "I need hardly remind you, Mr. Lupin, of the consequences should Miss Granger avoid the hearing. Ignoring a Ministry summons is a crime in itself, and besides that, I really _don't_ want to have to take a little boy away from his mother and put him into foster care."

"Mr. Biggs," The werewolf responded in mild, but cool tones, "Surely you've realized by now that neither Albus Dumbledore, nor Harry Potter, nor myself, will very easily allow you to take Sean away. By all law, if he leaves his mother, his first place of home would be with his godfather -Harry. If you try to stop that, or attempt to take Sean away from his mother at all, you may find yourself losing two of your best Aurors."

There was a long silence, and then Mr. Biggs smiled slightly. "Be as that may be, Mr. Lupin." There was a hesitancy in his voice with gave Remus some satisfaction, "I will go to any lengths to discover Sirius Black's whereabouts and apprehend him, as much as I may have to sacrifice for that. Do pass on the official summons to Miss Granger, and I bid you a good day."

"Tomorrow then, Mr. Biggs," Remus said coolly, before shutting the door firmly in the faces of the three resounding _Crack!_s.

He rather regretted his coldness, because he was intelligent enough to see no arguments would prove effective here. No matter what Dumbledore had said, true to his predictions, Biggs had refused to accept that Sirius was an innocent in the murder and the situation. A report had appeared in the _Daily Prophet_, screaming out that Sirius Black was alive - but Dumbledore had absolutely forbidden any mention of Sirius's connection to the case, which was probably the reason for the hearing - to prove guilt. Unfortunately, there was, as Dumbledore said, no proof as to Sirius's innocence.

"Well," Hermione said quietly, when Remus and Ron both turned to her a moment later, "Unless someone can find some proof as to Sirius's innocence - "

Ron suggested, "Why don't we ask him where he was that night?"

"No!" Hermione said quickly. "Don't tell him about this. Tomorrow, you and Harry can leave for work as usual, Ron, and Remus, you and I will say we're going to Diagon Alley for something. I'll ask Bill or Mrs. Weasley - no, she'll be getting tea ready, so it'll have to be Bill - to come over, and he and Sirius can stay here with Sean, and Sirius will know nothing about the hearing. I'll tell Bill too: but don't even let him set eyes on the _Daily Prophet_."

Ron was clearly flummoxed. "But why not?" He demanded.

"You know Sirius, Ron," Remus said gently, "If he hears a whiff of there being a risk that Hermione's silence would cause her to lose custody of her son, he'd sooner turn himself in for crimes he hasn't committed than let either of them go through that. You may not believe it, 'Mione," He added softly, "But Sirius would rather die than cause you any more pain."

The words, 'I don't think he cares that much', hovered on the tip of Hermione's tongue, but she said nothing. Ron nodded, understanding at last, and then she exhaled heavily and miserably. "Well, if some evidence doesn't come to light by tomorrow, it looks like I've got a very difficult choice to make."

  


***

  


Three P.M of the following day saw Hermione waiting once again in the wretched little room off the Ministry courtroom, hearing her name being called out, magically magnified, walking slowly into the circular room and feeling like a criminal being looked critically down upon by God and his Angels at the golden gates on Judgment Day.

"Please have a seat, Miss Granger," Biggs said.

It was all too, too familiar ... right down to Dumbledore smiling reassuringly at her and the three anonymous figures sitting up to her right, accompanied this time it appeared by Moody, Kingsley, Ginny, Luna and Tonks (the bubble-gum pink hair was the most striking of the lot). Each gave Hermione an encouraging thumbs-up or something like it, but none of it helped ease the knots tying themselves in her stomach.

How was she supposed to do this? This time, it would be a lie to say Sirius had known nothing about the Sphere of Pagnon. It would be a lie to say she didn't know where he was. She would either have to lie, and be pounced upon and then subjected to the removal of her son's custody ... or she would have to tell them the truth, and betray him.

"Now, Miss Granger, I did warn you that we might find ourselves here again," Biggs said calmly. "I hope that this time, you are aware of why you're here. You are being charged as an accomplice to Sirius Black, due to your shielding of him and uncooperation with us."

Hermione said nothing - what was she supposed to say anyway?

"Well," Biggs cleared his throat, frowning at her. "Let us begin the questioning then, and need I remind you, Miss Granger that you are officially under moral oath. Either tell us the absolute truth, or we will know if you are lying and will then have just grounds to use Veritaserum. Let's see ... we can begin with the following: are you aware of the current location of Sirius Black?"

Hermione closed her eyes, knew she was trapped, and said calmly, "Yes."

"Where is he, Miss Granger?"

"I'm not going to tell you that, Mr. Biggs."

There was a considerable ripple of astonishment and shock. Several witches and wizards gasped, one tiny witch wailed, "Oh the poor thing!" and burst into tears, and others merely glared at Hermione in sudden suspicion and surprise. Hermione thought she heard soft cheers from the right corner of the courtroom.

"Indeed?" Biggs' face was turning red. "You won't tell us, you say? And why is that?"

"Because if I do, you'll hunt him down and arrest him."

"And why on earth shouldn't we do that?"

She looked at him defiantly, a sudden vein of sincerity throbbing through her voice, "Because he is not guilty of the crimes you seem to have pinned to him. Sirius Black is innocent! He did not murder Aberforth Dumbledore, and yes, he was aware of the existence of the Sphere of Pagnon, but he is not the man who tried to use it three nights ago!"

"You sound very convincing, Miss Granger," Biggs said slowly, "But unfortunately, unless you can give us concrete evidence as to Sirius Black's innocence, he is guilty. I saw him myself at the scene three nights ago, when the whole magical world believed him to be dead. What more could one need to prove a man's guilt? But due to Dumbledore's insistence - and the concurrence of several memebers of the Wizenmagot - I have not put notices out offering rewards for any information about this wanted man - yet. So ... can you give me any proof?"

Hermione's jaw tightened, and she said nothing, but forced herself to continue to meet Biggs' hard, hawk-like eyes.

"I didn't think so." Biggs said with an air of satisfaction. "Now then, Miss Granger, I'll give you one more chance. Will you or will you not tell me where Sirius Black is?"

"No." Hermione responded without hesitation.

There was dead silence. The tension, once again, could be felt so vividly. Hermione felt like she was inching closer and closer to the edge of a plank on a pirates' ship.

"Very well," Biggs said, at last. "Your knowledge of his whereabouts and refusal to cooperate with us makes the situation much more suspicious and serious than before, I'm afraid. Therefore, I have no choice but to have to incarcerated until further evidence can be developed." (There was a ripple of gasps, and she thought she heard Ron and Tonks let out indignant shouts) "Order, please! _Ahem_ ... Hermione Granger, you are hereby charged as an accomplice to Sirius Black, who has been charged with the attempt to access powers unfit to wizardkind - on the 31st of December 2001, as well as the murder of Aberforth Dumbledore on the 14th of May 1998. You - "

Hermione's ears, gradually grasping her fate, suddenly felt like they were clogged with water. Surely she'd heard wrong!

"What was that?" She interrupted sharply. "_What_ was the date of Aberforth's murder again?"

"May 14th 1998," Biggs said wearily. "Now - "

_Oh Merlin, why didn't I ever bother to find out the dates? Why didn't I remember?_

"Mr. Biggs!" She said quickly, her voice rising in intensity and eagerness. A sudden hush fell over the entire courtoom. "I believe I can give you the final proof as to Sirius Black's innocence. I can give you his alibi for the night of May 14th 1998."

Dumbledore abruptly turned around to look closely at her.

There was a deadly hush now in the entire room. Biggs stared. "I _beg your pardon_, Miss Granger? _What_ alibi could you possibly give us now, after all the questions we have pelted at you? What are you going to tell me?"

"Sirius couldn't have committed the murder," Hermione said slowly, "It was someone else - Donald Tyler - and it couldn't have been Sirius because he was with me that whole night."

She was intensely conscious of Dumbledore's blue eyes boring into her. The entire room seemed frozen, and for a moment, Biggs looked at her like he'd just been steamrollered. Then he uttered a short, harsh laugh, and his voice was almost cold and mocking as he said, "Well, Miss Granger, if that's the best you can do, then you are clearly not as clever as the world says you are. After everything we've been through, surely you've realize that I will not take the word of someone who refuses to cooperate and who happens to be the accused's ex-lover! Come, come, let's not waste any more time. You cannot give me rock-solid _evidence_ that Sirius Black was with you that night - "

"Yes, I can."

The Minister of Magic froze, and his eyes bulged in astonishment. "W-what?" He sputtered.

"The evidence, Mr. Biggs - if you will be so kind as to magically check the dates and certificates down to precise timings," Hermione said calmly, "Lies, as you will see, quite rock-solidly, in the living and breathing form of my son, Sean."

  


***

  


Needless to say, it took only a moment to check the dates magically, subtracting from Sean's precise timing and birthday. Before four o' clock, Mr. Biggs was forced to announce to the magical world present in the courtroom that Sirius Black was hereby cleared of all charges, and was indeed the hero he had been until two months before. Miss Hermione Granger was free to go.

Hermione became something of a goddess as she rejoined her friends outside the Ministry of Magic. Harry couldn't wait to get to the Burrow, find Sirius, and tell him the news, whereas everyone else was so beside themselves with excitement that Hermione began having trouble breathing due to Ron's death grip around her shoulders and neck. Eventually, they managed to gather themselves up sufficiently to Apparate to the Burrow, where tea was out in the front garden.

Several other members of the Order, including Dumbledore, were waiting there with Mrs. Weasley (who burst into tears and hugged Hermione). Sean was there too, enjoying himself thoroughly with Fred and George's entertainment and the fascination of the various Order members. 

Soon, however, it was noticed that Sirius wasn't there.

"He's upstairs in Ron's old bedroom, dear," Mrs. Weasley said brightly to Hermione, "Why don't you go on upstairs and be the first one to tell him that he's a free, innocent man again!"

Hermione hesitated, but then decided that it was time to bury the hatchet. She wanted him too much - _loved_ him too much - to continue this insane estrangement. They'd gone through too much together, and sacrificed far too much to remain unhappy for the rest of their lives. At least - she wasn't willing to stay miserable forever, without at least trying.

"Okay," She nodded and headed into the house, which was now empty because everyone was outside enjoying themselves. She thought she heard Fred and George say fiercely as she disappeared inside, "Anyone so much as _step_ inside this house in the next hour and you'll have bat bogies chasing you for the rest of the evening!"

Her heart thumped with nervousness, but she determinedly walked up the rickety steps towards Ron's old bedroom. She got to the door, which was open a crack, and still had the faded old plaque - _Ronald's Room_ - and stopped for a moment. That was when she heard low voices coming from inside the room. Her brows drew together in perplexity. Sirius was with someone in there? Or was there someone else in here altogether, because who could he possibly be with? Who on earth - ?

She pushed the door slowly open, and her insides seemed to shrivel up and die.

Sirius was there all right, and he was with Ginny. Ginny's back was to Hermione, but she would recognize that red hair anywhere. They were both standing close together ... far too close ... and Sirius was holding something between two fingers, something both he and Ginny were looking at and smiling - and Hermione heard, as if through a roaring thunder - Ginny said, "Oh my God, Sirius, this is amazing!" - and something sparkled on the tiny thing ...

A sick swoop of nausea hit her as the realization struck with utmost bitter horror that the sparkling thing was a tiny diamond set into a ring ...

  


*

  


She must have made a choking noise, or maybe the shattering of her heart was somehow audible, because suddenly, Sirius looked up, and stark shock laced his achingly handsome features as he stared at her over Ginny's shoulder.

"'Mione!" He exclaimed hoarsely, stepping hastily away from Ginny, his hand closing quickly over the sparkling little thing and stuffing it into his pocket. That act in itself was guilty, and she felt like her soul was being ripped out through her mouth. "What - what - when - ?"

Ginny had turned around, and was looking at Hermione with a startled, uneasy expression. "Hermione - "

"I don't believe this!" Hermione choked out, her hand shaking as it gripped the doorframe. She looked from Ginny to Sirius in utter shock, horror and pain. "You two - _you two_ - I - I gave you everything, you're the father of _my son_ - and you - you, I trusted you with everything, you were one of my best friends - and now - you two - "

"What?" Sirius growled. "'Mione, that's - "

"No, Hermione!" Ginny said in anguish. "You don't understand - it's not like - that's not what - Oh my God, I know I should have said something, but I didn't tell you - but you'll see why - I couldn't! I'm sorry!"

Hermione felt like the world was spinning, but she hardened her voice with effort. "I don't want to hear anything more you have to say. I don't want to know."

"Ginny," Sirius said abruptly, his eyes blazing, "Go downstairs. I need to talk to Hermione."

"But - "

"_Go._"

Ginny scuttled for the door, hesitated with a tentative pained look in her eyes by Hermione, who stepped away from her, further into the room - and then she hurried out, closing the door behind her. Hermione turned slowly around to look back at Sirius, and she felt the sharp pain and disappointment - of getting over her fears of trusting him again only for this to come at her - sink in deep. Suddenly, a vein of anger bubbled to the surface and her brown eyes flashed.

"What were you both doing here?"

Sirius frowned. "Quite honestly, 'Mione, that's none of your business," He drawled, and she was too hurt and angry to notice how strained the drawl was, "After all, you were the one who made it clear to me several times that you wanted nothing more to do with me."

Her jaw dropped. "After what you did - "

"I screwed up." He bit out. "But you're not a sinless angel either. We could have gotten past it, and let our passion run undeterred, had everything - but you were determined on hating me forever for what I was stupid enough to do, and more than once, you walked away from me."

"And I could walk away from you again." Hermione snapped, her heart aching terribly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Could you? Need I remind you, 'Mione darling, that every time you walked away, I was always able to lure you back ... just by coming close," He covered the distance between them, and reached up to touch her cheek, "Touching you ... kissing you ..." He bent his head, and kissed her, hard, demanding, his tongue intensely forcing her mouth to open for him - 

"No!" She pulled away, her voice and body trembling. She'd almost been lost - yet again. Her eyes burned with surface loathing, "So what if I want you just as much as you want me? You've always made it clear that my body was somehow the only thing you wanted. I'm not going to let myself get wrecked by you all over again, Sirius, so I guess I'm glad that I saw what I just did. Sooner better than later."

"Hermione - "

"You're right." She said coolly, ignoring the tears that were burning her lungs up inside, "We could have had everything ... but it's too late now. I don't want to have anything more to do with you, Sirius, and now that there's no Sphere of Pagnon to worry about, I don't even have to see you again. Whatever we may have had between us, it's _over_ now. I'm leaving, Sirius - this time, for good."

His hand came out faster than whiplash and between two strong fingers, he gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His face was very white, his eyes starkly black, forbidding and impenetrable, and his voice was cool and hard as he said, "And what about _my_ son, Hermione?" Her heart took a terrible nosedive. "You haven't forgotten who Sean's father is, have you? I have every right to see my son, and if that means seeing you as well - "

"No!" She spat angrily. "I won't let you do this! We'll go back home, and you won't see him."

Sirius let her go, and gave her a mocking, pitying look. "Don't you know magical law well enough by now, 'Mione?" He drawled, shaking his head, "Without just cause, a mother can't keep a child away from its father. Unless I heard the celebrating yells wrong from that window over there, I am now an innocent man - a _hero_, in fact. Who do you think the sympathy will be with? In fact, if you try to keep Sean away from me ... the only option left for me would be to take this to the Ministry, and have them take custody away from you."

Hermione felt all the color drain from her face, and her heart seemed to have stopped beating.

"I didn't think you'd want that," Sirius smiled triumphantly, "So it seems you me, that you'd be smart to go back to Harry and Ron's after this, instead of to your home in Ireland or wherever, and unless you want to lose Sean - again - that's where you'd be better off staying."

She stared at him for a long time, watching the muscle throb in his jaw, watching his fathomless black eyes burn back at her, and she felt a nauseating wave of bitter loathing and anguish. Her lower lip trembled as she shook her head and spat out in a strangled whisper: "And to think - I - I actually believed - believed myself - to be in love with you."

She didn't wait for him to speak; she turned on her heel and made for the door. But before she fled from the room, she caught a glimpse of Sirius's face - he looked like his best friend had just pointed a gun to the back of his head and fired.

"Hermione!" He yelled.

Without pausing, she raced blindly down the stairs, nearly tripping and falling, and had the rpesence of mind to flee out of the back door rather than the front. She heard him racing after her, and was halfway across the backyard when he caught up to her, grabbing her by the waist and shoulders and forcing her to turn around. She didn't dare cry out, for fear someone would hear and see them, but pushed herself away from him and faced him with a pale, glistening-eyed face of defiance.

"What - what did you just say?" He demanded croakily.

She glared at him. "What in hell does it matter? Nothing you can say or do will make me stay! You've ruined my life - ever since the first time you showed up with your revelations about Wormtail - you've wrecked me!" Her voice was fairly low, but bordering on hysterical, tears were brimming and spilling out of her eyes, "You've taken everything away from me - my sanity, my innocence, my heart, my dignity, my life - and now - now you're trying to take my baby away from me!"

"Dear God, 'Mione," His arms fell limply to his sides, and the mask crumbled off his face, revealing pure anguish and wretchedness. "I would never - you know I'd _never_ take Sean away from you! Hell, I was _angry_ in there! You were talking about leaving me for good, and I couldn't - couldn't take that, so anger was all I had left to cover up that hurt. I didn't mean a word of what I said in there!"

"You wrecked me," She repeated brokenly, hugging herself desperately, feeling suddenly chilly.

"I know that," he admitted, shaking his head, "And God help me, I never meant to hurt you. Ever. But I've only wrecked you as much as you've wrecked me. I haven't been the same since I've known you, and I don't think I could ever be the same if you left."

She stared at him, not sure of what to say, what to do. Not even understanding what was happening to her ...

"I - I don't know!" She mumbled.

Something flashed across his features - she couldn't identify it, but for a second, his eyes seemed to ignite with a spark of hope. "Just come back with me," He pleaded, "Give me another chance. Give this another chance - don't - don't leave. That's all I'm asking." He took a step toward her, and she automatically stepped hastily back, and he let out a growl of frustration. "You said you love me, and yet you won't let me come close to you. What do you want from me, for God's sake?"

_I just want your love_, a wretched voice whispered in her head.

The wind picked up, and it was only as she saw the disbelief appear on his face that she realized she'd said the words out loud. The horror of that admission, the danger it evoked, made her feel dizzy and her already wearied body swayed dangerously as her head swam hazily.

Sirius swore, and moved quickly to steady her with his arms. When she didn't protest, he pulled her closer and held her tight, the warmth and hardness of his strong body holding her safely, and she felt tears sting her eyes all over again.

"You've always had it," He murmured huskily into her hair, "Always, 'Mione."

She looked up at him. "Only because you want me, that's all," She said, not daring to believe it. It meant too much - far too much.

"Merlin's beard, 'Mione!" He growled, stepping back slightly and glaring at her. "If you didn't look so damned adorable and sorrowful right now, I'd shake the living daylights out of you! Are you the _only_ damned person on this planet who doesn't know that Sirius Black experienced only a second of Harry Potter's best female friend's spirit and intelligence, and took one look at her two years ago, and fell quite crazily in love with her?"

"What?" Hermione stared into intense, warm black eyes. She looked so utterly astonished and startled that Sirius let out a low laugh, and his eyes danced with amusement. She felt her knees go weak. "You - but I didn't - you never once said - "

"That was a mistake," Sirius sighed, "I should have told you how I felt - I just - I just couldn't bring myself to, because back then, you were so young and I didn't want to tie you down to anything, and now - when I came back, well, now - "

"I didn't give you the chance," Hermione finished sadly, "I know, Sirius. I screwed up too."

Sirius reached out and drew her to him, his arms tightening around her waist and his breath warm and husky against her skin as he began to nuzzle her neck, "Do you know how hard it's been for me to keep my hands off you for the past three days? Hell, for the past three _years_, even! Do you think you could forgive me?" He looked up, meeting her eyes.

Hermione traced a finger along his jaw, and suddenly felt so incredibly lightheaded and free that her eyes sparkled with mischief as she said, "Well ... you'll have to make it up to me."

"With all the pleasure in the world!" Sirius laughed. He lifted Hermione up into his arms without warning - she squealed - and he kissed her hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and traced her tongue along the inside of his mouth, smiling to herself as he moaned softly. When he lifted his head and grinned rakishly at her, she laughed.

Grinning, she said, "Mmm ... that was a good start ..." She baby-kissed along his jaw teasingly, and saw with some interest the way his eyes burned with desire and emotion.

"Damn it, you little devil!" He growled, moving towards the house, and staring heatedly down at her, "You're determined to make me go through hell, aren't you? Careful, or you might end up getting a hell of a lot more than you bargained for!"

Hermione laughed, and leaned close towards his ear. "I love you, Sirius," She whispered softly.

He came to a shuddering halt in the middle of the stairs leading up to Ron's old room. "Do you have any idea what it does to me to hear you say that?" He asked quietly, kissing her on the forehead.

"Do you have any idea what it did to me _not_ to hear you say it?"

Sirius looked at her seriously. "It was no way to begin, was it? A relationship based on so many deceptions and secrets?" A slow smile spread across his face, making her heart thump harder, "You think we could do a hell of a lot better this round?"

"I don't know ... last time it was pretty great," She teased, tempting him by nibbling on the skin exposed by the open top two buttons of his shirt, "You'll have to convince me about this round."

He set her down, and kissed her for a long time.

"Wait," Hermione said suddenly, looking up at him. "What about Ginny?"

Sirius shook his head, chuckling. "Ginny means nothing to me like that, 'Mione. She was just helping me, because I figured she was the only girl who knew you well enough and was young enough to tell me what you'd think of a certain idea I had."

"What idea?" Hermione was puzzled.

He looked a little sheepish, and reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver ring with a small diamond on it. He stared at her, and she saw him swallow. "Uh - well - I thought that if you were willing, Sean might like to be Sean Taurus Black from now on."

Hermione stared incredulously. "Sirius, are you - ?"

"Marry me." He said abruptly.

For a long moment, she stared at him in a mixture of elation and disbelief. Then, with a squeal, she threw herself at him and they both fell onto the stairs, laughing. The laughter slowly faded, as Sirius brushed away stray brown hair and ran his thumb gently over her trembling lip. Hermione sighed, smiled, and gave in to his hungry, loving demands.

It was nearly an hour later when Remus ventured to look for them, and finding a shirt and a couple of buttons on the stairs, smiled to himself and left the house with a firm declaration that one of the garden gnomes had flooded the kitchen and under no circumstances were any of the others to go inside for a little while.

  
**   
  
THE END.   
  
*   
  
A/N: And so _yet_ another story has come to its end, and it's been quite an unusual one for me! It's been great doing this, and I hope everyone has enjoyed reading this story as much as I've loved writing it! Hopefully, another idea will strike me sometime soon ... until then, happy reading, merry christmas and please let me know what you guys think of my writing!   
  
Luv,  
Sangu   
  
** --> 


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